TALES FROM THE HINDU DRAMATISTS - Awaken Video
TALES FROM THE HINDU DRAMATISTS - Awaken Video
TALES FROM THE HINDU DRAMATISTS - Awaken Video
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<strong>TALES</strong> <strong>FROM</strong><br />
<strong>THE</strong> <strong>HINDU</strong> <strong>DRAMATISTS</strong><br />
BY<br />
R. N. DUTTA, B.A., B.L.,<br />
http://www.esnips.com/web/ebooks4u<br />
_Late Officiating Head-Master, Metropolitan Institution,<br />
Bowbazar Branch, Calcutta;_<br />
AUTHOR OF "<strong>THE</strong> BOY'S RAMAYANA."<br />
REVISED BY<br />
J. S. ZEMIN,<br />
_Professor of English Literature, Bishop's College, and<br />
Central College, Calcutta;<br />
Late Principal, Doveton College, Calcutta;<br />
Hon. Fellow and Examiner, University of Calcutta_.<br />
Calcutta.<br />
B. BANERJEE & Co.,<br />
26, Cornwallis Street, and 54, College Street.<br />
1912.<br />
[_All Rights Reserved._] Ans. 12.<br />
CALCUTTA,<br />
PRINTED BY K.C. DATTA AT <strong>THE</strong> VICTORIA PRINTING WORKS<br />
203/2 CORNWALLIS STREET.<br />
PUBLISHED BY<br />
B. BANERJEE & Co.,<br />
25, Cornwallis Street, and 54, College Street.<br />
To<br />
The Hon'ble Sir Justice<br />
ASHUTOSH MOOKERJEE, SARASWATI, Kt.
C.S.I., M.A., D.L., D.S.C., F.R.A.S., F.R.S.E.<br />
_Vice-Chancellor of the University of<br />
CALCUTTA._<br />
THIS BOOK<br />
IS<br />
DEDICATED<br />
as a sincere token of the esteem and admiration of the<br />
AUTHOR<br />
for his eminent services to the cause of the<br />
ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING.<br />
+-------------------------------------------------------------------+<br />
| Transcriber's Note: There are some inconsistencies in spelling and|<br />
|punctuation which have been left as the original. |<br />
+-------------------------------------------------------------------+<br />
PREFACE.<br />
Many educationists think that our Indian boys should be encouraged to<br />
read the stories of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, the two great<br />
Epics of India and Tales from the Sanskrit Dramatists when they are<br />
recommended to read "The Boy's Odyssey," "Legends of Greece and Rome,"<br />
"Arabian Nights' Tales" and Lamb's "Tales from Shakespeare." It was<br />
perhaps from this view of the matter that the University of Calcutta<br />
recommended "The Boy's Ramayana" and "Tales from the Hindu Dramatists"<br />
for the Matriculation Examination. As no books were published in time,<br />
the University had to issue an amended notice omitting the books from<br />
the list. To supply the want, I have ventured to write the "Boy's<br />
Ramayana" and this humble book. I have tried my best to narrate briefly,<br />
in simple and idiomatic English, the stories on which the chief Sanskrit<br />
dramas are based. I hope that the University will be pleased to<br />
re-insert "The Boy's Ramayana" and this book in the list of books<br />
recommended for the Matriculation Examination.<br />
BALARAMADHAM, }<br />
4, Madan Mitter's Lane, } RAMA NATH DUTT.<br />
Calcutta }<br />
2
_1911--December._ }<br />
<strong>TALES</strong><br />
<strong>FROM</strong><br />
<strong>THE</strong> <strong>HINDU</strong> <strong>DRAMATISTS</strong>.<br />
SAKUNTALA OR <strong>THE</strong> LOST RING.<br />
In ancient days, there was a mighty king of the Lunar dynasty by name<br />
Dushyanta. He was the king of Hastinapur. He once goes out a-hunting and<br />
in the pursuit of a deer comes near the hermitage of the sage Kanwa, the<br />
chief of the hermits, where some anchorites request him not to kill the<br />
deer. The king feels thirsty and was seeking water when he saw certain<br />
maidens of the hermits watering the favourite plants. One of them, an<br />
exquisitely beautiful and bashful maiden, named Sakuntala, received him.<br />
She was the daughter of the celestial nymph Menaka by the celebrated<br />
sage Viswamitra and foster-child of the hermit Kanwa. She is smitten<br />
with love at the first sight of the king, standing confused at the<br />
change of her own feeling. The love at first sight which the king<br />
conceives for her is of too deep a nature to be momentary. Struck by her<br />
beauty he exclaims:--<br />
"Her lip is ruddy as an opening bud; her graceful arms resemble tender<br />
shoots; attractive as the bloom upon the tree, the glow of youth is<br />
spread on all her limbs."<br />
Seizing an opportunity of addressing her, he soon feels that it is<br />
impossible for him to return to his capital. His limbs move forward,<br />
while his heart flies back, like a silken standard borne against the<br />
breeze. He seeks for opportunities for seeing her. With the thought<br />
about her haunting him by day and night, he finds no rest, and no<br />
pleasure even in his favourite recreation--sporting. Mathavya, the<br />
jester, friend and companion of the king, however, breaks the dull<br />
monotony of his anxious time. The opportunity which the king seeks<br />
offers itself. The hermits send an embassy to the king asking him to<br />
come over to the hermitage to guard their sacrifices. As he was making<br />
preparations for departure to the hermitage, Karavaka, a messenger from<br />
the queen-mother, arrives asking his presence at the city of Hastinapur.<br />
He is at first at a loss to extricate himself from this difficulty but a<br />
thought strikes him and he acts upon it. He sends the jester as his<br />
substitute to the city. He is now at leisure to seek out the love-sick<br />
3
Sakuntala who is drooping on account of her love for the king and is<br />
discovered lying on a bed of flowers in an arbour. He comes to the<br />
hermitage, overhears her conversation with her two friends, shows<br />
himself and offers to wed her. For a second time, the lovers thus meet.<br />
He enquires of her parentage to see if there is any obstacle to their<br />
being united in marriage; whereupon Sakuntala asks her companion<br />
Priyambada to satisfy the king with an account of her birth. The king<br />
hearing the story of her birth asks the companion to get the consent of<br />
Sakuntala to be married to him according to the form known as<br />
_gandharva_.<br />
Sakuntala requests the king to wait till her foster-father Kanwa, who<br />
had gone out on a pilgrimage, would come back and give his consent. But<br />
the king, becoming importunate, she at last gives her consent. They are<br />
married according to the _gandharva_ form, on the condition that the<br />
issue of the marriage should occupy the throne of Hastinapur. She<br />
accepts from her lord a marriage-ring as the token of recognition.<br />
The king then goes away, after having promised to shortly send his<br />
ministers and army to escort her to his Capital. When Kanwa returns to<br />
the hermitage, he becomes aware of what has transpired during his<br />
absence by his spiritual powers, and congratulates Sakuntala on having<br />
chosen a husband worthy of her in every respect. Next day, when<br />
Sakuntala is deeply absorbed in thoughts about her absent lord, the<br />
celebrated choleric sage Durvasa comes and demands the rights of<br />
hospitality. But he is not greeted with due courtesy by Sakuntala owing<br />
to her pre-occupied state. Upon this, the ascetic pronounces a curse<br />
that he whose thought has led her to forget her duties towards guests,<br />
would disown her.<br />
Sakuntala does not hear it, but Priyambada hears it and by entreaties<br />
appeases the wrath of the sage, who being conciliated ordains that the<br />
curse would cease at the sight of some ornament of recognition.<br />
Sakuntala becomes quick with child and in the seventh month of her<br />
pregnancy is sent by her foster-father to Hastinapur, in the company of<br />
her sister Gautami, and his two disciples Sarngarva and Saradwata.<br />
Priyambada stays in the hermitage. Sakuntala takes leave of the sacred<br />
grove in which she has been brought up, of her flowers, her gazelles and<br />
her friends.<br />
The aged hermit of the grove thus expresses his feelings at the<br />
approaching loss of Sakuntala:--<br />
"My heart is touched with sadness at the thought, "Sakuntala must go<br />
to-day"; my throat is choked with flow of tears repressed; my sight is<br />
dimmed with pensiveness but if the grief of an old forest hermit is so<br />
great, how keen must be the pang a father feels when freshly parted from<br />
a cherished child!"<br />
Then he calls upon the trees to give her a kindly farewell. They answer<br />
4
with the Kokila's melodious cry.<br />
Thereupon the following good wishes are uttered by voices in the air:--<br />
"Thy journey be auspicious; may the breeze, gentle and soothing, fan the<br />
cheek; may lakes, all bright with lily cups, delight thine eyes; the<br />
sun-beam's heat be cooled by shady trees; the dust beneath thy feet be<br />
the pollen of lotuses."<br />
On their way, Sakuntala and her companions bathe in the Prachi<br />
Saraswati, when, as Fate would have it, she carelessly drops the ring of<br />
recognition into the river, being unaware of the fact at the time. At<br />
last they arrive at Hastinapur, and send words to the king.<br />
The king asks his family priest Somarata to enquire of them the cause of<br />
their coming. Whereupon the priest meets them at the gate, knows the<br />
objects of their coming and informs the king of it. The curse of Durvasa<br />
does its work. The king denies Sakuntala. At the intercession of the<br />
priest, she and her companions are brought before the king. The king<br />
publicly repudiates her. As a last resource, Sakuntala bethinks herself<br />
of the ring given her by her husband, but on discovering that it is<br />
lost, abandons hope. Sarnagarva sharply remonstrates against the conduct<br />
of the king and presses the claim of Sakuntala.<br />
Gentle and meek as Sakuntala is, she undauntedly gives vent to her moral<br />
indignation against the king. The disciples go away saying that the king<br />
would have to repent of it.<br />
Sakuntala falls senseless on the ground. After a while, she revives, the<br />
priest then comes forward and asks the king to allow her to stay in his<br />
palace till her delivery. The king consents, and when Sakuntala is<br />
following the priest, Menaka with her irradiant form appears and taking<br />
hold of her daughter vanishes and goes to a celestial asylum. Everyone<br />
present there is astonished and frightened.<br />
After this incident, one day while the king is out on inspection, a<br />
certain fisherman, charged with the theft of the royal signet-ring which<br />
he professes to have found inside a fish, is dragged along by constables<br />
before the king who, however, causes the poor accused to be set free,<br />
rewarding him handsomely for his find.<br />
Recollection of his former love now returns to him. His strong and<br />
passionate love for Sakuntala surges upon him with doubled and<br />
redoubled-force.<br />
Indulging in sorrow at his repudiation of Sakuntala, the king passes<br />
three long years; at the end of which Matali, Indra's charioteer,<br />
appears to ask the king's aid in vanquishing the demons. He makes his<br />
aerial voyage in Indra's car. While he is coming back from the realm of<br />
Indra, he alights on the hermitage of Maricha.<br />
5
Here he sees a young boy tormenting a lion-whelp. Taking his hand,<br />
without knowing him to be his own son, he exclaims:--"If now the touch<br />
of but a stranger's child thus sends a thrill of joy through all my<br />
limbs, what transports must be awakened in the soul of that blest father<br />
from whose loins he sprang!"<br />
From the vaunting speeches of the boy, the king gathers that the boy is<br />
a scion of the race of Puru. His heart everflows with affection for him.<br />
A collection of circumstantial evidence points the boy to be his son.<br />
The amulet on the boy indicates his parentage.<br />
But while he is in a doubtful mood as to the parentage of the refractory<br />
boy, he meets the sage Maricha from whom he learns everything. The name<br />
of the boy is Sarvadamana, afterwards known as Bharata, the most famous<br />
king of the Lunar race, whose authority is said to have extended over a<br />
great part of India, and from whom India is to this day called Bharata<br />
or Bharatavarsa (the country or domain of Bharata.)<br />
Soon after, he finds and recognises Sakuntala, with whom he is at length<br />
happily re-united.<br />
VIKRAMORVASI OR URVASI WON BY VALOUR<br />
OR<br />
<strong>THE</strong> HERO AND <strong>THE</strong> NYMPH.<br />
In the Himalaya mountains, the nymphs of heaven, on returning from an<br />
assembly of the gods, are mourning over the loss of Urvasi, a<br />
fellow-nymph, who has been carried off by a demon. King Pururavas enters<br />
on his chariot, and on hearing the cause of their grief, hastens to the<br />
rescue of the nymph. He soon returns, after having vanquished the<br />
robber, and restores Urvasi to her heavenly companions. While carrying<br />
the nymph back to her friends in his chariot, he is enraptured by her<br />
beauty, falls in love with her and she with her deliverer. Urvasi being<br />
summoned before the throne of Indra, the lovers are soon obliged to<br />
part. When they part, Urvasi wishes to turn round once more to see the<br />
king.<br />
She pretends that a straggling vine has caught her garland, and while<br />
feigning to disengage herself, she calls one of her friends to help her.<br />
The friend replies:--<br />
"I fear, this is no easy task. You seem entangled too fast to be set<br />
free: but, come what may, defend upon my friendship." The eyes of the<br />
king then meet those of Urvasi. They now part.<br />
6
The king is now at Prayag, the modern Allahabad, his residence. He walks<br />
in the garden of his palace, accompanied by a Brahman who is his<br />
confidential companion, and knows his love for Urvasi. The companion is<br />
so afraid of betraying what must remain a secret to everybody at court,<br />
and in particular to the queen, that he hides himself in a retired<br />
temple. There a female servant of the queen discovers him, and 'as a<br />
secret can no more rest in his breast than morning dew upon the grass,'<br />
she soon finds out from him why the king is so changed, since his return<br />
from the battle with the demon, and carries the tale to the queen. In<br />
the meantime, the king is in despair, and pours out his grief. Urvasi<br />
also is sighing for him. She suddenly descends with her friend through<br />
the air to meet him.<br />
Both are at first invisible to him, and listen to his confession of<br />
love.<br />
Then Urvasi writes a verse on a birch-leaf, and lets it fall near the<br />
bower where her beloved reclines.<br />
Next, her friend becomes visible, and at last, Urvasi herself is<br />
introduced to the king. After a few moments, however, both Urvasi and<br />
her friend are called back by a messenger of the gods, and the king is<br />
left alone with his jester. He looks for the leaf on which Urvasi had<br />
first disclosed her love, but it is lost, carried away by the wind. But<br />
worse than this the leaf is picked up by the queen, who comes to look<br />
for the king in the garden. The queen severely upbraids her husband,<br />
and, after a while, goes off in a hurry, like a river in the rainy<br />
season.<br />
When Urvasi was recalled to Indra's heaven, she had to act before Indra<br />
the part of the goddess of beauty, who selects Vishnu for her husband.<br />
One of the names of Vishnu is Purushottama.<br />
Poor Urvasi, when called upon to confess on whom her heart was set,<br />
forgetting the part she had to act, says "I love Pururavas," instead of<br />
"I love Purushottama."<br />
Her teacher Bharata, the author of the play, is so much exasperated by<br />
this mistake, that he pronounces a curse upon Urvasi. "You must lose<br />
your divine knowledge." After the close of the performance, Indra,<br />
observing her as she stood apart, ashamed and disconsolate, calls her<br />
and says:--<br />
"The mortal, who engrosses your thoughts, has been my friend in the days<br />
of adversity; he has helped me in the conflict with the enemies of the<br />
gods, and is entitled to my acknowledgements. You must, accordingly,<br />
repair to him and remain with him till he beholds the offspring you<br />
shall bear him." The god thus permits her to marry the mortal hero.<br />
After transacting public business, the king retires to the garden of the<br />
7
palace as the evening approaches. A messenger arrives from the queen,<br />
apprising his Majesty that she desires to see him on the terrace of the<br />
pavilion. The king obeys and ascends the crystal steps while the moon is<br />
just about to rise, and the east is tinged with red.<br />
As he is waiting for the queen, his desire for Urvasi is awakened again.<br />
On a sudden, Urvasi enters on a heavenly car, accompanied by his friend.<br />
They are invisible to the king as on the previous occasion. The moment<br />
that Urvasi is about to withdraw her veil, the queen appears. She is<br />
dressed in white, without any ornaments, and comes to propitiate her<br />
husband, by taking a vow.<br />
Then she, calling upon the god of the moon, performs her solemn vow and<br />
retires.<br />
Urvasi, who is present, though in an invisible state, during this scene<br />
of matrimonial reconciliation, now advances behind the king and covers<br />
his eyes with her hands. The king says:--<br />
"It must be Urvasi; no other hand could shed such ecstasy through my<br />
emaciated frame. The solar rays do not wake the night's fair blossom;<br />
that alone expands when conscious of the moon's dear presence."<br />
She takes the resignation of the queen in good earnest and claims the<br />
king as granted her by right. Her friend takes leave and she now remains<br />
with the king as his beloved wife in the groves of a forest.<br />
Subsequently the lovers are wandering near Kailasa, the divine mountain,<br />
when Urvasi, in a fit of jealousy, enters the grove of Kumara, the god<br />
of war, which is forbidden to all females. In consequence of Bharat's<br />
curse she is instantly metamorphosed into a creeper. The king beside<br />
himself with grief at her loss, seeks her everywhere. The nymphs in a<br />
chorus deplore her fate. Mournful strains are heard in the air.<br />
The king enters a wild forest, his features express insanity, his dress<br />
is disordered. Clouds gather overhead. He rushes frantically after a<br />
cloud which he mistakes for a demon that carried away his bride.<br />
He addresses various birds and asks them whether they have seen his<br />
love,--the peacock, 'the bird of the dark-blue throat and eyes of<br />
jet,'--the cuckoo, 'whom lovers deem Love's messenger,'--the swans, 'who<br />
are sailing northward, and whose elegant gait betrays that they have<br />
seen her,'--the chakravaka, 'a bird who, during the night, is himself<br />
separated from his mate,'--but none responds. He apostrophises various<br />
insects, beasts and even a mountain peak to tell him where she is.<br />
Neither the bees which murmur amidst the petals of the lotus, nor the<br />
royal elephant, that reclines with his mate under the Kadamba tree, has<br />
seen the lost one.<br />
At last he thinks he sees her in the mountain stream:--<br />
8
"The rippling wave is like her frown; the row of tossing birds her<br />
girdle; streaks of foam, her fluttering garment as she speeds along; the<br />
current, her devious and stumbling gait. It is she turned in her wrath<br />
into a stream."<br />
At last the king finds a gem of ruddy radiance. He holds it in his<br />
hands, and embraces the vine which is now transformed into Urvasi. Thus<br />
is she restored to her proper form, through the mighty spell of the<br />
magical gem. The efficacious gem is placed on her forehead. The king<br />
recovers his reason. They are thus happily re-united and return to<br />
Allahabad.<br />
Several years elapse. An unlucky incident now comes to pass. A hawk<br />
bears away the ruby of re-union. Orders are sent to shoot the bird, and,<br />
after a short while, a forester brings the jewel and the arrow by which<br />
the hawk was killed. An inscription on the shaft shows that its owner is<br />
Ayus. A female ascetic enters, leading a boy with a bow in hand.<br />
The boy is Ayus, the son of Urvasi, whom his mother confided to the<br />
female ascetic who generously brought him up in the forest and now;<br />
sends him back to his mother. The king who was not aware that Urvasi<br />
had ever borne him a son, now recognises Ayus as his son. Urvasi also<br />
comes to embrace her boy. She now suddenly bursts into tears and tells<br />
the king:--<br />
"Indra decreed that I am to be recalled to heaven when you see our son.<br />
This induced me to conceal from you so long the birth of the child. Now<br />
that you have accidentally seen the child, I shall have to return to<br />
heaven, in compliance with the decree of Indra."<br />
She now prepares to leave her husband after she has seen her boy<br />
installed as associate king. So preparations are made for the<br />
inauguration ceremony when Narada the messenger of Indra, comes to<br />
announce that the god has compassionately revoked the decree. The nymph<br />
is thus permitted to remain on earth for good as the hero's second wife.<br />
Nymphs descend from heaven with a golden vase containing the water of<br />
the heavenly Ganges, a throne, and other paraphernalia, which they<br />
arrange. The prince is inaugurated as Yuvaraj. All now go together to<br />
pay their homage to the queen, who had so generously resigned her rights<br />
in favour of Urvasi.<br />
MALAVIKAGNIMITRA,<br />
OR<br />
AGNIMITRA AND MALAVIKA.<br />
9
We learn a wise sentiment from the prologue. The stage-manager,<br />
addressing the audience, says:--"All that is old is not, on that<br />
account, worthy of praise, nor is a novelty, by reason of its newness,<br />
to be censured. The wise do not decide what is good or bad till they<br />
have tested merit for themselves: a foolish man trusts to another's<br />
judgement."<br />
Puspamitra was the founder of the Sunga dynasty of Magadha kings, having<br />
been the general of Vrihadratha, the last of the Maurya race, whom he<br />
deposed and put to death: he was succeeded by his son Agnimitra who<br />
reigned at Vidica (Bhilsa) in the second century B.C. King Agnimitra has<br />
two queens Dharini and Iravati. Malavika belongs to the train of his<br />
queen Dharini's attendants. The maid was sent as a present to the queen<br />
by her brother, Virsena, governor of the Antapala or barrier-fortress on<br />
the Nermada.<br />
The queen jealously keeps her out of the king's sight on account of her<br />
great beauty. The king, however, accidentally sees the picture of<br />
Malavika, painted by order of the queen for her _chitrasala_, or<br />
picture-gallery. The sight of the picture inspires the king with an<br />
ardent desire to view the original, whom he has never yet beheld.<br />
Hostilities are about to break out between Agnimitra and Yajnasena, king<br />
of Viderbha (Berar). The first, on one occasion, had detained captive<br />
the brother-in-law of the latter, and Yajnasena had retaliated by<br />
throwing into captivity Madhavasena, the personal friend of Agnimitra,<br />
when about to repair to Vidisa to visit that monarch. Yajnasena sends to<br />
propose an exchange of prisoners, but Agnimitra haughtily rejects the<br />
stipulation, and sends orders to his brother-in-law, Virasena, to lead<br />
an army immediately against the Raja of Viderbha. This affair being<br />
disposed of, he directs his attention to domestic interests, and employs<br />
his Vidushaka or confidant, Gotama, to procure him the sight of<br />
Malavika. To effect this, Gotama instigates a quarrel between the<br />
professors, Ganadas and Haradatta, regarding their respective<br />
pre-eminence.<br />
They appeal to the Raja, who, in consideration of Ganadasa's being<br />
patronised by the queen, refers the dispute to her. She is induced to<br />
consent reluctantly to preside at a trial of skill between the parties,<br />
as shown in the respective proficiency of their select scholars. The<br />
queen is assisted by a protege, a _Parivrajaka_, or female ascetic and<br />
woman of superior learning.<br />
The party assembles in the chamber where the performance is to take<br />
place, fitted up with the _Sangitarachana_, or orchestral decorations.<br />
The king's object is attained, for Ganadasa brings forward Malavika as<br />
the pupil on whom he stakes his credit. Malavika sings an _Upanga_ or<br />
prelude, and then executes an air of extraordinary difficulty.<br />
Malavika's performance is highly applauded, and, of course, captivates<br />
10
the king and destroys his peace of mind; the Vidushaka detains her<br />
until the queen, who has all along suspected the plot, commands her to<br />
retire. The warder cries the hour of noon, on which the party breaks up,<br />
and the queen, with more housewifery than majesty, hastens away to<br />
expedite her royal husband's dinner.<br />
There stands an _asoka_ tree in the garden. The Hindus believe that this<br />
tree, when barren, may be induced to put forth flowers by the contact of<br />
the foot of a handsome woman. The tree in question does not blossom, and<br />
being the favourite of Dharini, she has proposed to try the effect of<br />
her own foot. Unluckily however, the Vidhushaka, whilst setting her<br />
swing in motion, has tumbled her out of it and the fall has sprained her<br />
ankle, so that she cannot perform the ceremony herself: she therefore<br />
deputes Malavika to do it for her, who accordingly comes to the spot<br />
attired in royal habiliments, and accompanied by her friend Vakulavali.<br />
In the conversation that ensues, she acknowledges her passion for the<br />
king, who with his friend Gotama has been watching behind the tree, and<br />
overhears the declaration; he therefore makes his appearance and<br />
addresses a civil speech, to Malavika when he is interrupted by another<br />
pair of listeners, Iravati and her attendant. She commands Malavika's<br />
retreat, and leaves the king, in a violent rage, to inform Dharini of<br />
what is going forward. The King never behaves as a despot but always<br />
with much consideration for the feelings of his spouses.<br />
The Vidushaka now informs the king that Malavika has been locked in the<br />
_Sarabhandagriha_ or the store or treasure room by the queen. The room<br />
was no enviable place, as the Vidusaka compares it to Patala, the<br />
infernal regions. He undertakes, however, to effect her liberation; and<br />
whilst he prepares for his scheme, the Raja pays a visit to the queen.<br />
Whilst the Raja is engaged in tranquil conversation with Dharini, and<br />
the parivrajaka, the vidushaka rushes in, exclaiming he has been beaten<br />
by a venomous snake, whilst gathering flowers to bring with him as a<br />
present on his visit to the queen, and he exhibits his thumb bound with<br />
his cord, and marked with the impressions made by the teeth of the<br />
reptile. The parivrajaka, with some humour as well as good surgery,<br />
recommends the actual cautery, or the amputation of the thumb; but the<br />
vidushaka pretending to be in convulsions and dying, the snake-doctor is<br />
sent for, who having had his clue refuses to come, and desires the<br />
patient may be sent to him: the vidushaka is accordingly sent. The queen<br />
is in great alarm, as being, however innocently, the cause of a<br />
Brahman's death. Presently the messenger returns, stating that the only<br />
hope is the application of the snake-stone to the bite, and requesting<br />
the Raja to order one to be procured: the queen has one in her<br />
finger-ring, which she instantly takes off and sends to the vidushaka.<br />
This is his object, for the female jailor of Malavika has, as he has<br />
ascertained, been instructed to liberate her prisoner only on being<br />
shown the seal ring or signet of the queen, and having got this in his<br />
possession, he immediately effects the damsel's release, after which the<br />
ring is returned to the queen, and the Vidushaka is perfectly recovered.<br />
11
The king then being summoned away by a concerted pretext, hastens to<br />
the Samudra pavilion, where Malavika has been conveyed with her friend<br />
and companion, Vakulavali. This pavilion is decorated with portraits of<br />
the king and his queens, and Malavika is found by her lover engrossed<br />
with their contemplation. Vakulavali retires. The Vidushaka takes charge<br />
of the door, but he no sooner sits down on the threshold than he falls<br />
asleep. The Raja and Malavika, consequently, have scarcely time to<br />
exchange professions of regard, when they are again disturbed by the<br />
vigilant and jealous Iravati, who sends information of her discoveries<br />
to Dharini, and in the meantime remains sentinel over the culprits. The<br />
party, however, is disturbed by news, that Agnimitra's daughter has been<br />
almost frightened to death by a monkey, and Iravati and the Raja hasten<br />
to her assistance, leaving Malavika to the consolation derived from<br />
hearing that the _Asoka_ tree is in blossom, an omen of the final<br />
success of her own desires.<br />
The Raja, Dharini and the Parivrajaka, with Malavika and other<br />
attendants, gather about the _Asoka_ tree, when some presents arrive<br />
from the now submissive monarch of Viderbha, against whom the troops of<br />
Virashena have been successful. Amongst the gifts are two female slaves,<br />
who immediately recognize in Malavika the sister of Madhavasena, the<br />
friend of Agnimitra, whom the armies of the latter have just extricated<br />
from the captivity to which the Viderbha sovereign had consigned him. It<br />
appears that when he was formerly seized by his kinsman, his minister,<br />
Sumati, contrived to effect his own escape, along with his sister and<br />
the young princess. That sister, Kausika, now reveals herself in the<br />
person of the Parivrajaka, and continues the story of their flight.<br />
Sumati joined a caravan bound to Vidisa On their way to the Vindhya<br />
mountains, they were attacked by the foresters, who were armed with bows<br />
and arrows, and decorated with peacock's plumes: in the affray Sumati<br />
was slain and Malavika was lost.<br />
Kausika, left alone, committed her brother's body to the flames, and<br />
then resumed her route to Vidisa, where she assumed the character of a<br />
female ascetic The Raja observes she did wisely. Kausika soon found out<br />
Malavika, but forebore to discover herself, confiding in the prophecy of<br />
a sage, who had foretold that the princess, after passing through a<br />
period of servitude, would meet with a suitable match.<br />
It thus finally turns out that Malavika is by birth a princess, who had<br />
only come to be an attendant at Agnimitra's court through having fallen<br />
into the hands of robbers.<br />
The king issues his orders respecting the terms to be granted to<br />
Yajnasena, the king of Viderbha, the half of whose territory he assigns<br />
to Madhavasena, the brother of Malavika.<br />
A letter arrives from the general Pushpamitra, giving an account of some<br />
transactions that have occurred upon the southern bank of the Indus.<br />
On his own behalf, or that of his son, he had undertaken to celebrate an<br />
12
_aswamedha_, or horse-sacrifice, for which it was essential that the<br />
steed should have a free range for twelve months, being attended only by<br />
a guard to secure him. This guard had been placed by Pushpamitra under<br />
the command of Agnimitra's son, Vasumitra. Whilst following the victim<br />
along the Indus, a party of Yavana horse attempted to carry off the<br />
courser, but they were encountered by the young prince, and after a<br />
sharp conflict, defeated.<br />
Pushpamitra concludes with inviting his son to come with his family to<br />
complete the sacrifice.<br />
The queen, Dharini, overjoyed with the news of her son's success and<br />
safety, distributes rich presents to all her train and the females of<br />
Agnimitra's establishment, whilst to him she presents Malavika. Iravati<br />
communicates her concurrence in this arrangement, and the Raja obtains a<br />
bride, whom his queens accept as their sister. The difficulty of<br />
conciliating his queens is thus removed. The king now marries Malavika<br />
and all ends happily.<br />
<strong>THE</strong> VIRA CHARITA OR <strong>THE</strong> MAHAVIRA CHARITA<br />
OR<br />
<strong>THE</strong> LIFE OF <strong>THE</strong> GREAT HERO.<br />
Dasaratha, the king of Ayodhya (Oudh), is the father of four sons Rama,<br />
Lakshmana, Bharata and Satrughna. Rama and Lakshmana visit Viswamitra's<br />
hermitage. Kusadhwaja, the king of Sankasya and the brother of Janaka,<br />
the king of Mithila, accompanied by his two nieces, Sita and Urmila,<br />
enters the hermitage of Viswamitra on the borders of the Kausiki (Cosi),<br />
having been invited by the sage to his sacrifice. He is met by the sage<br />
with the two youths Rama and Lakshmana, and the young couples become<br />
mutually enamoured. Meanwhile Ahalya--the cursed wife of Gautama--gets<br />
cleared of her guilt through the purifying influence of Rama.<br />
A messenger from Ravana, the demon king of Lanka, arrives, who has<br />
followed them from Mithila, and comes to demand Sita as a wife for his<br />
master.<br />
They are further disturbed by Taraka, a female fiend, the daughter of<br />
Suketu, wife of Sunda and mother of Maricha. Rama, by command of<br />
Viswamitra slays her. Viswamitra is exceedingly pleased with the deed<br />
and invokes and gives to Rama the heavenly weapons with all their<br />
secrets of discharge and dissolution. The sage recommends Kusadhwaja to<br />
invite the bow of Siva for Rama's present trial, and consequent<br />
obtaining of Sita. The bow arrives, self-conveyed, being, as the weapon<br />
of so great a deity, pregnant with intelligence. Rama snaps it asunder,<br />
13
in consequence of which feat it is agreed that Sita shall be wedded to<br />
him; Urmila her sister, to Lakshmana; and Mandavi and Srutakirti, the<br />
daughters of Kusadhwaja, to Bharata and Satrughna respectively. The<br />
party is again disturbed by Suvahu and Maricha, the first of whom is<br />
killed and the second, thrown at a distance by Rama.<br />
The messenger of Ravana then goes away mortified to represent the matter<br />
to the minister of Ravana. The saint and his visitors then retire into<br />
the hermitage.<br />
Malyavan, the minister and maternal grandfather of Ravana and the king's<br />
sister Surpanakha have heard the news of Rama's wedding with Sita from<br />
Siddhasrama and discuss the consequences with some apprehension. The<br />
minister takes the marriage as an insult to his master.<br />
A letter arrives from Parasurama partly requesting and partly commanding<br />
Ravana to call off some of his imps, who are molesting the sages in<br />
Dandakaranya. He writes from Mahendra Dwipa.<br />
Malyavan takes advantage of this opportunity to instigate a quarrel<br />
between the two Ramas, anticipating that Parasurama, who is the pupil of<br />
Siva, will be highly incensed when he hears of Rama's breaking the bow<br />
of that divinity. The hero comes to Videha, the palace of Janaka, to<br />
defy the insulter of his god and preceptor. He enters the interior of<br />
the palace, the guards and attendants being afraid to stop him, and<br />
calls upon Rama to show himself. The young hero is proud of Parasurama's<br />
seeking him and anxious for the encounter but detained awhile by Sita's<br />
terrors: at last the heroes meet. Parasurama alludes to his own history<br />
how he, having overcome his fellow-pupil, Kartikeya, in a battle-axe<br />
fight, received his axe from his preceptor, Siva, as the prize of his<br />
prowess.<br />
Parasurama addresses Rama thus:--<br />
"How dost thou presume to bend thy brow in frowns on me? Thou must be an<br />
audacious boy, a scion of the vile Kshatriya race. Thy tender years and<br />
newly wedded bride teach me a weakness I am not wont to feel.<br />
Throughout the world the story runs, I, Rama, and the son of Jamadgni,<br />
struck off a mother's head with remorseless arm. This vengeful axe has<br />
one and twenty times destroyed the Kshatriya race, not sparing in its<br />
wrath the unborn babe hewn piecemeal in the parent womb.<br />
It was thus I slaked the fires of a wronged father's wrath with blood,<br />
whose torrents, drawn unsparingly from martial veins, fed the vast<br />
reservoir in which I love to bathe."<br />
Rama replies thus:--<br />
"Give over thy vaunts--I hold thy cruelty a crime, not virtue."<br />
14
The combat between the two Ramas is suspended by the arrival of Janaka<br />
and Satananda, and Rama's being summoned to attend the Kanchana Mochana,<br />
the loosening of Sita's golden bracelet.<br />
Parasurama awaits Ramachandra's return. He is accosted in succession by<br />
Vasishtha, Viswamitra, Satananda, Janaka and Dasaratha, who first<br />
endeavour to soothe and then to terrify him; but he outbullies them all:<br />
at last Ramachandra returns from the string-removing ceremony and is<br />
heard calling on Parasurama, and the combat ensues. Ramachandra comes<br />
out victorious.<br />
The two kings Janaka and Dasaratha congratulate each other on the<br />
victory of Ramachandra. Parasurama is now as humble as he was before<br />
arrogant: he calls upon the earth to hide his shame. Whilst Rama regrets<br />
Bhargava's departure, Surpanakha, disguised as Manthara, the favourite<br />
of Kaikeyi, Dasaratha's second wife, arrives with a letter to Rama,<br />
requesting him to use his influence with his father to secure Kaikeyi<br />
the two boons which Dasaratha was pledged to grant her; specifying one<br />
to be her son Bharata's inauguration, and the other, assent to Rama's<br />
voluntary exile. In the meantime, Dasaratha, who has determined to raise<br />
Rama to the participation of regal dignity, communicates his intention<br />
to his son. Rama replies by informing him of Kaikeyi's message, and is<br />
earnest with his father to accede to her request.<br />
Bharata and his maternal uncle Yuddhajit arrive, and ask Dasaratha to<br />
crown Rama and all are full of wonder and concern: however, as there is<br />
no help for it, Dasaratha consents and orders preparations for the<br />
ceremony.<br />
Lakshmana and Sita are alone to accompany Rama, on which her father<br />
Janaka exclaims, "My child, what happiness it will be to wait upon thy<br />
husband in the hour of trouble, permitted to partake and cheer his<br />
wanderings!" Bharata requests permission to go with them, but Rama<br />
refuses his assent; on which his brother begs his golden shoes of him,<br />
promising to instal them in the kingdom, and rule thereafter as their<br />
representative. The seniors are led out in deep despondency, and Rama<br />
with his brother and wife set off to the woods.<br />
A dialogue opens between the two birds, Jatayu and Sampati, the<br />
vulture-descendants of Kasyapa, who have seen successive creations. They<br />
relate Rama's progress towards the south; and Sampati, the elder leaves<br />
his brother Jatayu, with strict injunctions to assist Rama, if needed.<br />
He then goes to the ocean to perform daily duties and Jatayu to Malaya.<br />
Jatayu perches on the mountain and marks the hero Rama in pursuit of the<br />
swift deer. Lakshmana directs his remote course thither. A holy seer<br />
approaches the bower and the dame gives him meet welcome. His form<br />
expands.<br />
It is he, the felon Ravana--his train crowd from the groves; he seizes<br />
upon Sita--he mounts the car. Jatayu cries shame on his birth and<br />
threatens to rend his limbs and revel in his gore. Jatayu is, however,<br />
15
killed in the conflict. Rama raves with indignation. The brothers set<br />
off in pursuit of the ravisher, when Sramana, a female devotee sent by<br />
Vibhishana to Rama, calls for succour being seized by Kabandha, a<br />
headless fiend. Rama sends Lakshmana to her rescue; he goes off to kill<br />
the demon and returns with the dame. She gives Rama a note from<br />
Vibhishana praying for his refuge. Rama asks Lakshmana what reply to be<br />
sent to (his) "dear friend--lord of Lanka" and Lakshman replies that<br />
those words are sufficient.<br />
(Two promises are implied--first contraction of friendship and secondly<br />
bestowal of the Kingdom of Lanka.)<br />
Rama, learning from the devotee that Vibhishana is with Sugriva,<br />
Hanuman, and other monkey chiefs at Rishyamuka, and that the monkeys<br />
have picked up Sita's ornaments and upper garments in the forest,<br />
determines to go to them. Kabandha then appears, to thank Rama for<br />
killing him, being thereby liberated from a curse and restored to a<br />
divine condition.<br />
They then set off to Rishyamuka, the residence of Bali, watered by the<br />
Pampa. In the way Rama performs a miracle by kicking away the skeleton<br />
of a giant.<br />
When the brothers arrive at the mountain, Bali appears like a cloud upon<br />
its peak and, being instigated by his friend Malyavan, resolves to<br />
oppose Rama. The heroes meet and, after exchange of civilities, go to<br />
the conflict.<br />
The noise brings Vibhishana, Sugriva, and all the monkey chiefs to the<br />
place. Bali is overthrown and mortally wounded. He recommends the<br />
Monkeys to choose Sugriva and his own son Angada for their joint<br />
sovereigns, and mediates an alliance between Rama and them, as well as<br />
with Vibhishana. Rama and Sugriva pledge themselves to eternal<br />
friendship, over the sacrificial fire in Matanga's hermitage which stood<br />
close by. Bali then repeats his request to the monkey chiefs, as they<br />
were attached to him, to acknowledge Sugriva and Angada as their joint<br />
leaders, and to follow them in aid of Rama against Ravana in the ensuing<br />
contest: he then dies.<br />
Malyavan laments over these miscarriages. Trijata, a Rakshasi, adds to<br />
his despondency by news of the mischief inflicted by Hanumana, who has<br />
burnt the town of Lanka and slain a son of Ravana. He goes off to set<br />
guards, and gather news by means of spies.<br />
Ravana meditates on his love. His queen Mahodhari comes to bring him<br />
tidings of Rama's approach, but he only laughs at her. She tells him of<br />
the bridge made by Rama: he replies, if all the mountains of the earth<br />
were cast into the ocean, they would not furnish footing to cross it.<br />
His incredulity is terminated by a general alarm, and the appearance of<br />
Prahasta, his general, to announce that Lanka is invested. Angada comes<br />
as envoy from Rama, to command Ravana to restore Sita and prostrate<br />
16
himself and his family at the feet of Lakshmana. Ravana, enraged, orders<br />
some contumely or punishment to be inflicted upon him. He orders him to<br />
be shaved. Angada puffs his hair out with rage. The monkey tells Ravana,<br />
if he were not an ambassador, he would tear off his ten heads, and he<br />
then springs away; the tumult increases, and Ravana goes forth to the<br />
combat. Indra and Chiraratha then come to see the battle from the air.<br />
All the chiefs of the two parties engage in promiscuous war. The<br />
Rakshasas have the worst, but Ravana, with his brother Kumbhakarna and<br />
his son Meghanada, turns the tide: the monkeys fly, leaving Rama almost<br />
unsupported. Lakshmana attacks Meghanada: Ravana quits Rama to assist<br />
his son.<br />
The "serpent band" of Meghnada is dispersed by the "eagle-king-weapon"<br />
of Lakshmana. The forces of Kumbhakarna are reduced to ashes with a<br />
fire-weapon by Rama. Rama kills Kumbhakarna, and then goes to the aid of<br />
Lakshmana; the whole of Rama's party are then overwhelmed with magical<br />
weapons, hurled invisibly by Ravana upon them, and fall senseless. While<br />
Ravana seeks to restore Kumbhakarna, Hanuman, reviving, goes to fetch<br />
_amrita_, and tearing up the mountain that contains it, returns to the<br />
field: his very approach restores Lakshmana, who jumps up with increased<br />
animation, like a serpent starting from his shrivelled skin or the sun<br />
bursting from clouds. So Raghu's youngest hope, restored by heavenly<br />
herbs, burns with more than wonted ardour, wonders a moment what has<br />
chanced and then, all on fire for glory, rushes to the fight. Rama also<br />
revives, and instigated by the sages, exerts his celestial energies, by<br />
which the daitya, Ravana, and his host speedily perish. Rama is<br />
victorious, and Sita is recovered.<br />
Vibhishana is now crowned king of Lanka. Alaka, a tutelary deity, comes.<br />
Lanka, another tutelary deity, is consoled by Alaka.<br />
Sita passes the fiery ordeal in triumph. The gods cheer her.<br />
Rama, accompainied by Sita, Lakshmana, Vibhishana and Sugriva, then<br />
enters the aerial car Pushpaka which was once wrested from Kuvera by<br />
Ravana, and which is now placed at the disposal of Rama by Vibhishana.<br />
The car transports them from Ceylon all the way to Ayodhya. One or other<br />
of the party points out the places over which they fly viz. the _Setu_<br />
or bridge of Rama the Malaya mountain, the Kaveri river, the hermitage<br />
of Agastya, the Pampa river, the residence of Bali and of Jatayu, the<br />
limits of the Dandaka forest, the Sahya or Sailadri mountains and the<br />
boundaries of Aryavarta.<br />
They then rise and travel through the upper air, approaching near the<br />
sun, and are met and eulogized by a _Kinnara_ and his bride; they then<br />
come to the peaks of the Himalaya, and descend upon Tapavana, whence<br />
they go towards Ayodhya, where Rama is welcomed by his brothers Bharata<br />
and Satrughna, their mothers, Vasistha and Viswamitra.<br />
The four brothers embrace one another. Rama is now consecrated king by<br />
17
Vasishtha and Viswamitra.<br />
UTTAR RAMA CHARITA<br />
OR<br />
<strong>THE</strong> LATER LIFE OF RAMA.<br />
Rama, when duly crowned at Ayodhya, enters upon a life of quiet<br />
enjoyment with his wife Sita. The love of Rama and Sita, purified by<br />
sorrow during the late exile, is most tender.<br />
After a stay of a few days at Ayodhya, Janaka, the father of Sita, goes<br />
back to his country Mithila. Rama consoles his queen for her father's<br />
absence. The sage Ashtavakra comes in and delivers a message to Rama<br />
from his spiritual preceptors to satisfy the wishes of Sita and please<br />
his people. Then the sage goes away.<br />
The family priest Vasishtha, having to leave the capital for a time to<br />
assist at a sacrifice, utters a few words of parting advice to Rama,<br />
thus:--<br />
"Remember that a king's real glory consists in his people's welfare."<br />
Rama replies: "I am ready to give up everything, happiness, love,<br />
pity--even Sita herself--if needful for my subjects' good."<br />
In accordance with this promise, he employs an emissary named Durmukha<br />
to ascertain the popular opinion as to his own treatment of his<br />
subjects.<br />
Lakshmana now asks Rama and Sita to come out and see their early history<br />
drawn on the terrace of the palace. They move about and the different<br />
parts of the picture are shown to Sita, when the eyes of Sita turn on<br />
the 'yawn-producing' weapons. Rama asks her to salute them so that they<br />
would attend also on her children. Sita then feels tired and lays her<br />
head on the arm of her husband and sleeps.<br />
Then Durmukha, who, as an old and trusted servant, had free admission to<br />
the inner apartments, comes and whispers to him that people condemn his<br />
receiving back a queen, abducted by a fiend, after her long residence in<br />
a stranger's house. In short, he is told that they still gossip and talk<br />
scandal about her and Ravana. The scrupulously correct and<br />
over-sensitive Rama, though convinced of his wife's fidelity after her<br />
submission to the fiery ordeal, and though she is now likely to become a<br />
mother, feels himself quite unable to allow the slightest cause of<br />
offence to continue among his subjects.<br />
18
He has no other resource. People must be satisfied. He orders his dear<br />
Sita's exile, and the messenger goes away to deliver the order to<br />
Lakshmana to seclude her somewhere in the woods. He is torn by<br />
contending feelings. He is overpowered with grief, withdraws his arm<br />
from his sleeping wife and pours forth pathetic lamentation. Then he<br />
takes up her feet and cries when the announcement of the arrival of<br />
frightened Rishis makes him go out to send Satrughna to their succour.<br />
The messenger Durmukha then enters and takes Sita unsuspectingly to<br />
mount the chariot which is to lead her to exile.<br />
Lakshmana takes Sita to the forest and leaves her there.<br />
She is protected by divine agencies. Her twin sons, Kusa and Lava, are<br />
born and entrusted to the care of the sage Valmiki, the author of the<br />
Ramayana, who brings them up in his hermitage. The boys have no<br />
knowledge of their royal descent.<br />
An incident now occurs which leads Rama to revisit the Dandaka forest,<br />
the scene of his former exile. The child of a Brahman dies suddenly and<br />
unaccountably. His body is laid at Rama's door. Evidently some national<br />
sin is the cause of such a calamity, and an aerial voice informs him<br />
that an awful crime is being perpetrated; for a Sudra, named Sambuka, is<br />
practising religious austerities, instead of confining himself to his<br />
proper vocation of waiting on the twice-born castes. Rama instantly<br />
starts for the forest, discovers Sambuka in the sacrilegious act and<br />
strikes off his head. But death by Rama's hand confers immortality on<br />
the Sudra, who appears as a celestial spirit, and thanks his benefactor<br />
for the glory and felicity thus obtained.<br />
Before returning to Ayodhya, Rama is induced to visit the hermitage of<br />
the sage Agastya in Panchavati. Sita now reappears. She is herself<br />
invisible to Rama through the favour of the Bhagirathi but able to<br />
thrill with emotions by her touch. Rama is greatly distracted.<br />
He faints with old remembrances but revives on the touch of Sita. He<br />
observes, "What does this mean? Heavenly balm seems poured into my<br />
heart; a well-known touch changes my insensibility to life. Is it Sita,<br />
or am I dreaming?"<br />
He vainly seeks for her possession, but at last goes away on the advice<br />
of his companion Visanti.<br />
The sage Valmiki makes great preparations for receiving Vasishtha,<br />
Janaka, Kaushalya, the mother of Rama and other eminent guests. The<br />
pupils are delighted because the visit of the guests affords hopes of a<br />
feast at which flesh meat is to constitute one of the dishes.<br />
As the boys have got a holiday in honour of the guests, they are playing<br />
at some distance from a tree outside the hermitage. Among them,<br />
Kaushalya notices a boy with the features of her son, who is called in<br />
19
ut whom the guests do not yet know to be a son of Rama.<br />
Soon after, the horse of the horse-sacrifice of Rama comes near and he<br />
goes out with other boys to see the fun while the elders go to see the<br />
host.<br />
The attendant soldiers cry out that Rama is the only hero of the world.<br />
Lava--for such is the boy's name,--cannot brook such vaunts and removes<br />
the banner. Soldiers crowd upon him and Lava draws his bow. Lakshmana's<br />
son Chandraketu--the general of the army--arrives surprised at the<br />
slaughter of his army and asks Lava to leave the incapable army and<br />
fight with himself. Lava obeys the call and after some conversation in<br />
which he ridicules the powers of Rama and infuriates his antagonist,<br />
they go out to fight.<br />
The discharge and repulsion of the divine weapons occur.<br />
The approach of Rama puts an end to the contest. Lava's elder brother<br />
Kusa has heard of his fight and comes to "eradicate from the world the<br />
name of emperor." But Lava has become calm and asks his brother to pay<br />
respects to the hero of the Ramayana.<br />
Rama embraces both of them and is moved with their son-like touch. He<br />
notices in them the features of his wife He knows that his children<br />
alone could possess the divine weapons. He recollects that his wife was<br />
left in that part of the forest and instinctively comes to the<br />
conclusion that they are his children. He wishes to ask about their<br />
birth in a roundabout way, but before proceeding to the end, is asked to<br />
see his spiritual preceptor.<br />
The desertion of Sita is acted by nymphs on the banks of the Ganges<br />
before Rama and other high guests invited by Valmiki.<br />
Sita, from behind the stage, cries out "the beasts of prey desire [to<br />
devour] me in the forest (left) alone and unprotected. I will throw<br />
myself into the Bhagirathi." She enters supported by her mother<br />
Prithivi, the Earth and Ganga, each carrying a baby in the lap. Ganga<br />
tells her of the birth of the twins and consoles her, but Earth is<br />
greatly distressed with the conduct of Rama. Ganga replies "who can<br />
close the door of Fate?"<br />
But Earth says, "has it been proper for the good Rama? He disregarded<br />
the hand he pressed when a boy. He disregarded me and Janaka. He<br />
disregarded Fire (who shewed her purity). He disregarded the children<br />
she was about to bring forth."<br />
But Ganga pacifies her and they agree to make over the children to<br />
Valmiki, when they become a little old. Earth then asks her daughter to<br />
come to the nether world, to which she agrees and with their exit closes<br />
the play.<br />
20
At the close of the play, Rama faints. Then the real Sita enters with<br />
Arundhuti, the wife of Rama's preceptor and touches and revives her<br />
husband. The people are satisfied with her purity and Rama takes her<br />
back with the children who are introduced by Valmiki. The husband and<br />
wife are thus re-united after twelve years of grievous solitude, and<br />
happiness is restored to the whole family. The re-union is witnessed not<br />
only by the people of Ayodhya, but by the congregated deities of earth<br />
and heaven.<br />
Rama thus describes his love for his wife:--<br />
"Her presence is ambrosia to my sight; her contact, fragrant sandal; her<br />
fond arms, twined round my neck; are a far richer clasp than costliest<br />
gems, and in my house she reigns the guardian goddess of my fame and<br />
fortune. Oh! I could never bear again to lose her."<br />
MALATI AND MADHAVA OR <strong>THE</strong> STOLEN MARRIAGE.<br />
There lived, in the town of Kundinapura in Berar, Devarata, a very calm<br />
and sagacious minister to the king of Vidarbha. He had a son named<br />
Madhava. Madhava was very beautiful and of uncommon intelligence. He<br />
became proficient in all branches of learning, in his early age. He now<br />
arrived at a marriageable age. The beautiful town of Padmavati in Malwa<br />
is situated at the confluence of the two rivers Indus and Madhumati.<br />
There lived in Padmavati, Bhurivasu, who was minister to the king of<br />
Padmavati. He had a very beautiful unmarried daughter named Malati. The<br />
king indicated an intention to propose a match between Malati and his<br />
own favourite Nandan, who was both old and ugly, and whom she detested.<br />
Bhurivasu feared to give offence to the king by refusing the match.<br />
Devarata and Bhurivasu were fellow students. In their academical days<br />
they pledged themselves that they should enter into matrimonial<br />
alliance, if they happen to have children. Malati and Madhava did not<br />
know anything about their fathers' promises. There lived in Padmavati,<br />
Kamandaki, an old Buddhist priestess who was nurse of Malati. The<br />
priestess knew everything about the matrimonial promise. She was a very<br />
intelligent lady and was respected by all. The two friends concert a<br />
plan with the priestess to throw the young people in each other's way<br />
and to connive at a secret marriage. In pursuance of this scheme,<br />
Madhava is sent to finish his studies at the city of Padmavati with the<br />
ostensible object of studying Logic under the care of the priestess, who<br />
takes great care of her pupil and endeavours her utmost to fulfil the<br />
promise of her two friends. By her contrivance and with the aid of<br />
Malati's foster-sister Lavangika, the young people meet and become<br />
mutually enamoured.<br />
Kamandaki addresses her favourite disciple Avalokita thus:--<br />
21
"Dear Avalokita! Oh how I wish for the marital union of Madhava, the son<br />
of Devarata, and Malati, the daughter of Bhurivasu! Auspicious signs<br />
forerun a happy fate. Even now my throbbing eyeball tells that<br />
propitious destiny shall crown my schemes."<br />
Avalokita replies:--<br />
"Oh, here is a serious cause of anxiety. How strange! You are already<br />
burdened with the austerities of devotional exercises, Bhurivasu has<br />
commissioned you to perform this arduous task. Though retired from the<br />
world, you could not avoid this business."<br />
Kamandaki says, "Never say so. The commission is an office of love and<br />
trust. If my friend's object is gained even at the expense of my life<br />
and penances, I shall feel myself gratified."<br />
The pupil asks "why is a stolen marriage intended?"<br />
The priestess answers, "Nandana, a favourite of the king of Padmavati,<br />
sues him for Malati. The king demands the maiden of her father. To evade<br />
the anger of the king, this ingenious device has been adopted. Let the<br />
world deem their union was the work of mutual passion only. So the king<br />
and Nandan will be foiled. A wise man veils his projects from the<br />
world." The pupil says, "I take Madhava to walk in the street in front<br />
of the house of the minister Bhurivasu."<br />
The priestess says,<br />
"I have heard from Lavangika, the foster-sister of Malati, that Malati<br />
has seen Madhava from the windows of her house.<br />
Her waning form faithfully betrays the lurking care she now first learns<br />
to suffer."<br />
The pupil says, "I have heard that, to soothe that care, Malati has<br />
drawn a picture of Madhava and has sent it through Lavangika to<br />
Mandarika, her attendant."<br />
The priestess perceives that Malati has done so with the object that the<br />
picture would reach Madhava as Mandarika is in love with Kalahansa, the<br />
servant of Madhava. Avalokita again says,<br />
"To-day is the great festival of Madan; Malati will surely come to join<br />
the festival, I have interested Madhava to go to the garden of Love's<br />
god with a view that the youthful pair may meet there."<br />
The priestess replies, "I tender my best thanks for your kindly zeal to<br />
aid the object of my wishes. Can you give me any tidings of Soudamini,<br />
my former pupil?"<br />
Avalokita answers, "she now resides upon mount _Sriparvata_. She has now<br />
22
arrived at supernatural power by religious austerities. I have learnt<br />
the news about her from Kapala Kundala, the female pupil of a tremendous<br />
magician Aghorghanta, a seer and a wandering mendicant, but now residing<br />
amidst the neighbouring forest, who frequents the temple of the<br />
dreadful goddess _Chamunda_ near the city cemetry." Avalokita remarks,<br />
"Madhava would be highly pleased if his early friend Makaranda is united<br />
in wedlock with Madayantika, the sister of Nandana."<br />
The priestess observes, "I have already engaged my disciple<br />
Buddharakshita for the purpose. Let us go forth and having learnt how<br />
Madhava has fared, repair to Malati. May our devices prosper!"<br />
Madhava thus describes to his friend Makaranda his first interview with<br />
Malati, and acknowledges himself deeply smitten:--<br />
"One day, advised by Avalokita, I went to the temple of the god of love.<br />
I saw there a beauteous maid. I have become a victim to her glances. Her<br />
gait was stately. Her train bespoke a princely rank. Her garb was graced<br />
with youth's appropriate ornaments. Her form was beauty's shrine, or of<br />
that shrine she moved as the guardian deity. Whatever Nature offers<br />
fairest and best had surely been assembled to mould her charms. Love<br />
omnipotent was her creator. Then I too plainly noted that the lovely<br />
maid, revealed the signs of passion long entertained for some happy<br />
youth.<br />
Her shape was as slender as the lotus stalk. Her pallid cheeks, like<br />
unstained ivory, rivalled the beauty of the spotless moon. I scarcely<br />
had gazed upon her, but my eyes felt new delight, as bathed with nectar.<br />
She drew my heart at once towards her as powerfully as the magnet does<br />
the unresisting iron. That heart, though its sudden passion may be<br />
causeless, is fixed on her for ever, chance what may, and though my<br />
portion be henceforth despair. The goddess Destiny decrees at pleasure<br />
the good or ill of all created beings."<br />
Makranda observes, "Believe me, this cannot be without some cause.<br />
Behold! all nature's sympathies spring not from outward form but from<br />
inward virtue. The lotus does not bud till the sun has risen. The<br />
moon-gem does not melt till it feels the moon." Madhava goes on with his<br />
description thus:--<br />
"When her fair train beheld me, they exchanged expressive looks and<br />
smiles and murmured to one another as if they knew me. What firmness<br />
could resist the honest warmth of nature's mute expressiveness? Those<br />
looks of love, beaming with mild timidity and moist with sweet<br />
abandonment, tore off my heart,--nay plucked it from my bosom by the<br />
roots, all pierced with wounds. Being incredulous of my happiness, I<br />
sought to mark her passion, without displaying my own. A stately<br />
elephant received the princess and bore her towards the city. Whilst she<br />
moved, she shot from her delicate lids retiring glances, tipped with<br />
venom and ambrosia, My breast received the shafts. Words cannot paint my<br />
agony. Vain were the lunar rays or gelid streams to cool my body's<br />
23
fever, whilst my mind whirls in perpetual round and does not know rest.<br />
Requested by Lavangika, I gave her the flowery wreath. She took it with<br />
respect, as if it were a precious gift and all the while the eyes of<br />
Malati were fixed on her. Bowing with reverence, she than retired."<br />
Makaranda remarks--<br />
"Your story most plainly shows that Malati's affection is your own. The<br />
soft cheek, whose pallid tint denoted love pre-conceived, is pale alone<br />
for you; She must have seen you. Maidens of her rank do not allow their<br />
eyes to rest on one to whom they have not already given their hearts.<br />
And then, those looks that passed among her maidens plainly showed the<br />
passion you had awakened in their mistress.<br />
Then comes her foster-sister's clear enigma and tells intelligibly whose<br />
her heart is."<br />
Kalahansa, advancing, shows a picture and says, "This picture is the<br />
work of hers who has stolen Madhava's heart. Mandarika gave it to me.<br />
She had it from Lavangika, Malati painted it to amuse and relieve<br />
distress." Makaranda says, "This lovely maid, the soft light of your<br />
eyes, assuredly regards you bound to her in love's alliance. What should<br />
prevent your union? Fate and love combined seem labouring to effect it.<br />
Come, let me behold the wondrous form that works such change in you. You<br />
have the skill. Portray her."<br />
Madhava, in return, delineates the likeness of Malati on the same tablet<br />
and Makaranda writes under it the following impassioned love-stanza,<br />
"Whatever nature loveliness displays,<br />
May seem to others beautiful and bright;<br />
But since these charms have broken upon my gaze,<br />
They form my life's sole exquisite delight."<br />
Being asked by Makaranda as to how and where Malati first saw Madhava,<br />
Mandarika says, "Malati was called to the lattice by Lavangika to look<br />
at him as he passed the palace."<br />
The picture is restored to Mandarika and brought back to Malati.<br />
The mutual passion of the lovers, encouraged by their respective<br />
confidants, is naturally increased.<br />
Madhava thus addresses Makaranda,<br />
"It is strange, most strange! wherever I turn, the same loved charms<br />
appear on every side. Her beauteous face gleams as brightly as the<br />
golden bud of the young lotus. Alas! my friend, this fascination spreads<br />
over all my senses. A feverish flame consumes my strength. My heart is<br />
all on fire. My mind is tossed with doubt. Every faculty is absorbed in<br />
one fond thought.<br />
24
I cease to be myself or conscious of the thing I am."<br />
Malati thus addresses Lavangika:--<br />
"Love spreads through every vein like subtlest poison and, like fire<br />
that brightens in the breeze, consumes this feeble frame. Resistless<br />
fever preys on each fibre. Its fury is fatal. No one can help me.<br />
Neither father nor mother nor Lavangika can save me. Life is distasteful<br />
to me.<br />
Repeatedly recurring to the anguish of my heart, I lose all fortitude<br />
and in my grief become capricious and unjust. Forgive me. Let the full<br />
moon blaze in the mighty sky. Let love rage on. Death screens me from<br />
his fury."<br />
In the meantime, the king makes the long-expected demand and the<br />
minister Bhurivasu returns the following ambiguous answer:--<br />
"Your Majesty may dispose of your daughter as your Majesty pleases."<br />
[This answer is used in a double sense:--<br />
"Your minister's daughter is your own daughter and you can dispose of<br />
her as you please," and "You can dispose of your own daughter as you<br />
please, but not my daughter."<br />
The father's connivance at his daughter's stolen marriage would appear<br />
inconsistent if the reply is not understood in its double sense.]<br />
The intelligence reaches the lovers. They are thrown into despair.<br />
Requested by Lavangika, Kamandaki thus describes Madhava in the presence<br />
of Malati:--<br />
"The sovereign of Vidarbha boasts for minister the wise and<br />
long-experienced Devarata, who bears the burden of state and spreads<br />
throughout the world his piety and fame. Your father knows him well.<br />
For, in their youth, they were joined in study and trained to learning<br />
by the same preceptor.<br />
In this world we rarely behold such characters as theirs. Their lofty<br />
rank is the abode of wisdom and of piety, of valour and of virtue. Their<br />
fame spreads white and spotless through the universe. A son has sprung<br />
from Devarata whose opening virtues early give occasion of rejoicing to<br />
the world. Now, in his bloom, this youth has been sent to our city to<br />
collect ripe stores of knowledge. His name is Madhava."<br />
Kamandaki soliloquises thus:--<br />
"Malati is tutored to our wishes and inspired with hatred of the<br />
25
idegroom Nandan. He is reminded of the examples of _Sakuntala_ and<br />
_Vasavadatta_ that vindicate the free choice of a husband. Her<br />
admiration of her youthful lover is now approved by his illustrious<br />
birth and my encomium of his high descent. All this must strengthen and<br />
confirm her passion. Now their union may be left to fate."<br />
By the contrivance of Kamandaki, a second interview between the lovers<br />
takes place in the public garden of the temple of _Sankara_. Malati is<br />
persuaded that the god _Sankara_ is to be propitiated with offerings of<br />
flowers gathered by one's self. Whilst she is collecting her oblation<br />
she and Madhava meet as if by accident.<br />
At this moment, a great tumult and terrific screams announce that a<br />
tremendous tiger has escaped from an iron cage in the temple of Siva,<br />
spreading destruction everywhere. Instantly, Nandana's youthful sister,<br />
Madayantika happens to be passing, and is attacked by the tiger and is<br />
reported to be in imminent danger.<br />
Madhava and Makaranda both rush to the rescue. The latter kills the<br />
animal, and thus saves her who is then brought in a half-fainting state<br />
into the garden. He is himself wounded. Mandayantika is thus saved by<br />
the valour of Makaranda. The gallant youth is brought in insensible. By<br />
the care of the women, he revives.<br />
On recovering, Madayantika naturally falls in love with her deliverer.<br />
The two couples are thus brought together. Malati affiances herself<br />
there and then to Madhava.<br />
Soon afterwards, the king prepares to enforce the marriage of Malati<br />
with Nandan. A messenger arrives to summon Madayantika to be present at<br />
the marriage. Another messenger summons Malati herself to the king's<br />
place.<br />
Madhava is mad with grief and in despair makes the extraordinary<br />
resolution of purchasing the aid of ghosts and malignant spirits by<br />
going to the cemetery and offering them living flesh, cut off from his<br />
own body, as food. He accordingly bathes in the river Sindhu and goes at<br />
night to the cemetery. The cemetery happens to be near the temple of the<br />
awful goddess Chamunda, a form of Durga. The temple is presided over by<br />
a sorceress named Kapalkundla and her preceptor, a terrible necromancer<br />
Aghorghanta. They have determined on offering some beautiful maiden as<br />
a human victim to the goddess. With this object they carry off Malati,<br />
before her departure, while asleep on a terrace and bringing her to the<br />
temple, are about to kill her at the shrine when her cries of distress<br />
attract the attention of Madhava, who is, at the moment, in the cemetery<br />
offering his flesh to the ghosts.<br />
He thinks he recognizes the voice of Malati. He rushes forward to her<br />
rescue. She is discovered dressed as a victim and the magician and the<br />
sorceress are preparing for the sacrifice.<br />
26
He encounters Aghorghanta and, after a terrific hand-to-hand fight,<br />
kills him and rescues Malati.<br />
She flies to his arms. Voices are heard as of persons in search of<br />
Malati. Madhava places her in safety.<br />
The sorceress vows vengeance against Madhava for slaying her preceptor<br />
Aghorghanta.<br />
Malati is now restored to her friends. The preparations for Malati's<br />
wedding with Nandana goes on. The old priestess Kamandaki, who favours<br />
the union of Malati with her lover Madhava, contrives that, by the<br />
king's command, the bridal dress shall be put on at the very temple<br />
where her own ministrations are conducted.<br />
There she persuades Makaranda to substitute himself for the bride. He<br />
puts on the bridal dress, is carried in procession to the house of<br />
Nandan and goes through the form of being married to him. Nandana, being<br />
disgusted with the masculine appearance of the pretended bride, and<br />
offended by the rude reception given to him, vows to have no further<br />
communication with her and consigns her to his sister's care in the<br />
inner apartments. This enabled Makaranda to effect an interview with<br />
Nandana's sister Madayantika, the object of his own affections.<br />
Makaranda then discovers himself to his mistress and persuades her to<br />
run away with him to the place where Malati and Madhava have concealed<br />
themselves.<br />
Their flight is discovered. The king's guards are sent in pursuit. A<br />
great fight follows; but Makaranda, assisted by Madhava, defeats his<br />
opponents. The bravery and handsome appearance of the two youths avert<br />
the king's anger and they are allowed to join their friends unpunished.<br />
The friends accordingly assemble at the gate of the temple.<br />
But the sorceress, who has been watching an opportunity when Malati is<br />
unprotected, takes advantage of the confusion and carries her off in a<br />
flying car, in revenge for the death of her preceptor. The distress of<br />
her lover and friends knows no bounds. They are reduced to despair at<br />
this second obstacle to the marriage. They give up all hopes of<br />
recovering her when they are happily relieved by the opportune arrival<br />
of Soudamini, an old pupil of the priestess Kamandaki, who has acquired<br />
extraordinary magical powers by her penances.<br />
She rescues Malati from the hands of the sorceress and restores her to<br />
her despairing lover.<br />
The two couples are now united in happy wedlock.<br />
27
HANUMAN NATAKA, OR MAHANATAKA, OR <strong>THE</strong> GREAT DRAMA.<br />
In Ayodhya, there was an illustrious and powerful monarch, the subduer<br />
of foes and the renowned ornament of the exalted house of the sun, named<br />
Dasaratha in whose family, for the purpose of relieving the Earth of her<br />
burden, Bhurisravas (Vishnu) deigned to incorporate his divine substance<br />
as four blooming youths. The eldest, endowed with the qualities of<br />
imperial worth, was Rama.<br />
He goes with his brother Lakshmana to the court of Mithila, to try his<br />
strength in the bending of the bow of Siva, and thereby win Sita for his<br />
bride. The hero triumphs. The bow is broken with a deafening sound which<br />
brings Parasurama there. Rama wins his bride. He tries the bow of<br />
Parasurama and shoots an arrow from it which flies to Swerga or heaven.<br />
The Brahmin hero now acknowledges the Kshatriya hero to be his superior.<br />
Rama is married to Sita. The sweet loves of the happy pair grows with<br />
enjoyment.<br />
Various portents then indicate Rama's impending separation from his<br />
father. The sun looks forth dimmed in radiance. Fiery torches wave along<br />
the sky. Meteors dart headlong through midheaven. Earth shakes. The<br />
firmament rains showers of blood. Around, the horizon thickens. In the<br />
day, the pale stars gleam. Unseasonable eclipse darkens the noon. Day<br />
echoes with the howls of dogs and jackals, whilst the air replies with<br />
horrid and strange sounds, such as shall peal, when the destroying deity<br />
proclaims in thunder the dissolution of the world. Rama is exiled. At<br />
this, the king dies in agony. It is the result of the stern curse<br />
denounced upon the king by the father of the ascetic whom the king,<br />
hunting in his youthful days, had accidentally slain.<br />
Rama fixes his residence at Panchavati. Maricha, a Rakshasa, now appears<br />
as a deer. The supposed animal is chased by Rama and Lakshmana at Sita's<br />
request.<br />
Ravana then comes disguised to see Sita. He mutters, "pious dame! Give<br />
me food." She heedlessly oversteps the magic ring traced by Lakshmana,<br />
when the Rakshasa seizes her by the hand stretched in charity. She calls<br />
in vain the sons of Raghu. Jatayu, the vulture, endeavours to rescue<br />
her, but is slain. She encounters Hanuman, the chief Counsellor of<br />
Sugriva, the dethroned king of the Monkeys, and begs him to carry her<br />
ornaments, which she casts to him, to Rama.<br />
Having slain the deer, the prince, with his brave brother, returns to<br />
their bower. He seeks Sita, but seeks in vain. His steps tread three<br />
several quarters, the fourth he leaves, overcome with grief and terror,<br />
unexplored.<br />
Rama prosecutes his search after Sita. He fights with Bali, the king of<br />
28
the Monkeys, and triumphs over him.<br />
He now despatches Hanuman to Lanka, Hanuman pays a visit to Sita.<br />
He performs various feats at Lanka and returns to Rama whose hosts now<br />
advance towards Lanka.<br />
Vibhishana, the brother of Ravana, expostulates with his royal brother,<br />
but in vain. Consequently he deserts the king and goes over to Rama.<br />
The Monkeys advance further towards Lanka.<br />
A bridge is built over the sea.<br />
The troops cross over it.<br />
Where first the Monkey bands advance, they view a watery belt smoothly<br />
circling round the shore: the following troops plough their way through<br />
the thick mire with labour; the chief who leads the rear, filled with<br />
wonder, exclaims, "Here is Ocean."<br />
Rama now sends Angada, the son of Bali, to persuade Ravana to relinquish<br />
Sita peaceably. Angada has some feeling of aversion to Rama, who killed<br />
his father, but thinks he shall best fulfil his father's wishes by<br />
promoting the war between Ravana and Rama; he therefore goes to Ravana<br />
and defies him in very haughty terms.<br />
Ravana says:--<br />
"Indra, the king of the gods, weaves garlands for me; the thousand-rayed<br />
or the Sun keeps watch at my gate; above my head Chandra or the Moon<br />
uprears the umbrella of dominion; the wind's and the ocean's monarchs<br />
are my slaves; and for my board the fiery godhead toils. Knowest thou<br />
not this, and canst thou stoop to praise the son of Raghu, whose frail<br />
mortal body is but a meal to any of my households?"<br />
Angada laughs and observes:--"Is this thy wisdom, Ravana? Infirm of<br />
judgement dost thou deem of Rama thus--a mortal man? Then Ganga merely<br />
flows a watery stream; the elephants that bear the skies, and Indra's<br />
steed, are brutal forms; the charms of Rembha are the fleeting beauties<br />
of earth's weak daughters, and the golden age, a term of years. Love is<br />
a petty archer; the mighty Hanuman, in thy proud discernment, is an<br />
ape."<br />
Angada, having in vain endeavoured to persuade Ravana to restore Sita,<br />
leaves him to expect the immediate advance of the Monkey host.<br />
Virupaksha and Mahodara, two of Ravana's ministers utter a string of<br />
moral and political sentences.<br />
Ravana is not to be persuaded, but goes to Sita to try the effect of his<br />
29
personal solicitations--first endeavouring to deceive her by two<br />
fictitious heads, made to assume the likenesses of Rama and Lakshmana.<br />
Sita's lamentations are stopped by a heavenly monitor, who tells her<br />
that the heads are the work of magic and they instantly disappear.<br />
Ravana then vaunts his prowess in war and love, and approaches Sita to<br />
embrace her. She exclaims "Forbear, forbear! proud fiend, the jetty arms<br />
of my loved lord, or thy relentless sword, alone shall touch my neck."<br />
Thus repulsed, Ravana withdraws, and presently reappears as Rama, with<br />
his own ten heads in his hands. Sita, thinking him to be what he<br />
appears, is about to embrace him, when the secret virtue of her<br />
character as a faithful wife detects the imposition, and reveals the<br />
truth to her. Ravana, baffled and mortified, is compelled to relinquish<br />
his design. Sita's apprehensions, lest she should be again beguiled, are<br />
allayed by a voice from heaven, which announces that she will not see<br />
the real Rama until he has beheld Mandodari kiss the dead body of her<br />
husband Ravana.<br />
A female Rakhasi attempts to assassinate Rama, but is stopped and slain<br />
by Angada. The army then advances to Lanka, and Ravana comes forth to<br />
meet it. Kumbhakarna, his gigantic and sleepy brother, is disturbed from<br />
his repose to combat. He is rather out of humour at first, and<br />
recommends Ravana to give up the lady, observing: "Though the commands<br />
of royalty pervade the world, yet sovereigns ever should remember, the<br />
light of justice must direct their path." Ravana answers:--<br />
"They who assist us with a holy text are but indifferent friends. These<br />
arms have wrested victory from the opposing grasp of gods and demons.<br />
Confiding in thy prowess, sure in thee to triumph over my foes, I have<br />
relaxed their fibre, but again their nerves are braced, I need thee not;<br />
hence to thy cell and sleep." Kumbhakarna replies:--"King, do not<br />
grieve, but like a valiant chief, pluck from thy heart all terror of<br />
thine enemies, and only deem of thy propitious fortunes, or who shall<br />
foremost plunge into the fight----I will not quit thee."<br />
Kumbhakarna's advance terrifies Rama's troops, whom the Kshatriya hero<br />
addresses thus:<br />
"Ho! chiefs and heroes, why this groundless panic, the prowess of our<br />
enemy untried in closer conflict? Ocean's myriad fry would drain the<br />
fountain, and before the swarm of hostile gnats the mighty lion falls."<br />
Kumbhakarna is killed by Rama; on which Indrajit, a son of Ravana,<br />
proceeds against the brethren. By the arrow called _Nagapasa_,<br />
presented him by Brahma, he casts Rama and Lakshmana senseless on the<br />
ground, and then goes to Nikumbhila mountain to obtain a magic car by<br />
means of sacrifice. Hanumana disturbs his rites.<br />
Rama and Lakshmana revive, and on being sprinkled with drops of amrita<br />
brought by Garura, the latter with a shaft decapitates Meghnada, and<br />
tosses the head into the hands of his father Ravana.<br />
30
Ravana levels a shaft at Lakshmana, given him by Brahma, and charged<br />
with the certain fate of one hero. Hanumana snatches it away, after it<br />
has struck Lakshmana, before it does mischief. Ravana reproaches Brahma,<br />
and he sends Nareda to procure the dart again and keep Hanumana out of<br />
the way. With the fatal weapon Lakshmana is left for dead. Rama<br />
despairs:--<br />
"My soldiers shall find protection in their caves; I can die with Sita,<br />
but thou, Vibhishana, what shall become of thee?"<br />
Hanuman reappears and encourages him. Ravana has a celebrated physician,<br />
Sushena, who is brought away from Lanka in his sleep, and directs that a<br />
drug (_Vishalya_) from the Druhima mountain must be procured before<br />
morning, or Lakshmana will perish. This mountain is six millions of<br />
_Yojanas_ remote, but Hanuman undertakes to bring it bodily to Lanka,<br />
and call at Ayodhya on his way.<br />
He accordingly roots up the mountain, and is returning with it to Rama,<br />
via Ayodhya, when Bharata, who is employed in guarding a sacrifice made<br />
by Vasishtha, not knowing what to make of him, shoots Hanuman as he<br />
approaches. He falls exclaiming on Rama and Lakshmana, which leads<br />
Bharata to discover his mistake. Vasishtha restores the monkey who sets<br />
off for Lanka. On Hanuman's return, the medicament is administered, and<br />
Lakshman revives.<br />
An ambassador from Ravana comes and offers to give up Sita for the<br />
battle-axe of Parasurama, but this, Rama replies, must be reserved for<br />
Indra. On this refusal, Ravana goes forth after a brief dialogue with<br />
his queen Mandodari, who animates his drooping courage with the true<br />
spirit of the tribe to which she belongs.<br />
"Banish your sorrow, lord of Lanka, take one long and last embrace. We<br />
meet no more. Or give command, and by your side I march fearless to<br />
fight, for I too am a Kshatriya." The progress of Ravana through the air<br />
appals all Nature. The winds breathe low in timid murmurs through the<br />
rustling woods; the sun with slackened fires gleams pale abroad and the<br />
streams, relaxing from their rapid course, slowly creep along. Ravana<br />
defies Rama with great disdain and in derision of his modest demeanour,<br />
asks him whether he is not overcome with shame by the recollection of<br />
his ancestor, Anaranya, killed formerly by Ravana.<br />
Rama replies:--<br />
"I am not ashamed my noble ancestor fell in the combat. The warrior<br />
seeks victory or death, and death is not disgrace. It ill befits thee to<br />
revile his fame. When vanquished, thou couldst drag out an abject life<br />
in great Haihaya's dungeons, till thy sire begged thee to freedom, as a<br />
matter of charity. For thee alone I blush, unworthy of my triumph."<br />
Ravana falls under the arrows of Rama. The heads, that once, sustained<br />
on Siva's breast, shone with heavenly splendour, now lie beneath the<br />
31
vulture's talons. Mandodari bewails the death of her husband. Sita is<br />
recovered, but Rama is rather shy of his bride, until her purity is<br />
established by her passing through the fiery ordeal: a test she<br />
successfully undergoes. Rama returns with Sita and his friends to<br />
Ayodhya, when Angada challenges them all to fight him, as it is now time<br />
to revenge his father's death. A voice from heaven, however, tells him<br />
to be pacified, as Bali will be born as hunter in a future age, and kill<br />
Rama, who will then be Krishna: he is accordingly appeased. Rama is now<br />
seated on the throne of Ayodhya. After some time, he orders the exile of<br />
Sita.<br />
ANERGHA RAGHAVA OR MURARI NATAKA.<br />
The sage Viswamitra comes to Dasaratha, the king of Ayodhya, to request<br />
the aid of his eldest son Rama. Each tries to outdo the other in<br />
complimentary speeches. The sage observes:--<br />
"The monarch of the day invests the dawn with delegated rays to scatter<br />
night, and ocean sends his ministers the clouds, to shed his waters over<br />
the widespread earth."<br />
The king, taking counsel with himself, and being reminded by Vamadeva,<br />
one of his priests and preceptors, that the race of Raghu never sent<br />
away a petitioner ungratified, sends for Rama and Lakshmana, and allows<br />
Viswamitra to take them with him, to his hermitage, situated on the<br />
banks of the Kausiki or Coosy river, to protect him in his rites against<br />
the oppression of Taraka, a Rakshasi.<br />
The cry is heard that Taraka is abroad. Rama, after some hesitation<br />
about killing a female, slays her.<br />
Viswamitra now proposes that they should visit Mithila. The two princes<br />
are introduced to Janaka, the king of Mithila, who is urged by the sage<br />
to let Rama try to bend the bow of Siva. Sanshkala, the messenger of<br />
Ravana, the king of Lanka, now arrives to demand Sita in marriage for<br />
his master, refusing, at the same time, on his part, to submit to the<br />
test of bending the bow. The demand is refused. Rama tries his fortune,<br />
bends the bow and wins the lady. The family connection is extended by<br />
the promise of Urmila, Mandavi, and Srutakirti, to Rama's brothers.<br />
Sanshkala is highly indignant and carries the information to his<br />
master's minister Malyavan, who is disappointed on Ravana's account.<br />
Malyavan anticipates that Ravana will carry Sita off; and to render the<br />
attempt less perilous, projects inveighing Rama into the forests alone,<br />
for which he sends Surpanakha, the sister of Ravana, in the disguise of<br />
Manthara, the attendant of Kaukeyi.<br />
Parasurama then appears and boasts of his destruction of the Kshatriya<br />
32
ace. Rama replies:--"This flag of your fame is now worn to tatters, let<br />
us see if you can mount a new one." Rama then calls for his bow, and<br />
Parasurama presents him with his axe. They go forth to fight. In the<br />
end, the two Ramas turn very excellent friends. Parasurama departs.<br />
Dasaratha now declares his purpose of relinquishing the kingdom entirely<br />
to his son Rama, Lakshmana announces the arrival of Manthara, and<br />
presents a letter from Kaikeyi, the purpose of which is to urge<br />
Dasaratha's fulfilment of his promise, and grant her as the two boons,<br />
the Coronation of Bharata, and banishment of Rama. The old king faints.<br />
Rama recommending his father to Janaka, departs for the forests,<br />
accompanied by Lakshmana and Sita. On their arrival in the forests, they<br />
are cordially received by Sugriva, the brother of Bali the king of the<br />
monkeys. Lakshmana carries on a dialogue with Ravana, disguised as a<br />
juggler.<br />
Jatayu, the king of birds, beholds Sita carried off by Ravana. He<br />
follows the ravisher. Rama and Lakshmana both express their grief.<br />
Lakshmana observes:--<br />
"The worse the ill that Fate inflicts on noble souls, the more their<br />
firmness; and they arm their spirits with adamant to meet the blow."<br />
Rama replies:--<br />
"The firmness I was born with or was reared to, and rage, that fills my<br />
heart, restrain my sorrows; but hard is the task to fit my soul to bear<br />
unmurmuringly a husband's shame."<br />
A cry of distress is now heard, and on looking out, the youths observe<br />
Guha, the friendly forest monarch, assailed by the demon Kabandha, or a<br />
fiend without a head. Lakshmana goes to his aid, and returns with his<br />
friend Guha. In the act of delivering him, Lakshmana tosses away the<br />
skeleton of Dundubhi, a giant, suspended by Bali, who, deeming this an<br />
insult, presently appears. After a prolix interchange of civility and<br />
defiance, Rama and Bali resolve to determine their respective supremacy<br />
by single combat. Bali is slain. His brother Sugriva is inaugurated as<br />
king and determines to assist Rama to recover Sita. A bridge is built<br />
over the sea. Rama's army advance to Lanka. Kumbhakarna, a brother of<br />
Ravana, and Meghanada, a son of Ravana, go forth to battle. Malyavan<br />
wishes them prosperity in a phrase perfectly oracular. They are slain.<br />
Ravana now takes the field himself. Malyavan resolves to follow him and<br />
resign, on the sword, a life now useless to his sovereign. The king is<br />
overthrown. Sita is recovered.<br />
Rama with his wife and brother, accompanied by Vibhishana, the brother<br />
of Ravana, and Sugriva, mounts the celestial car, which was once<br />
wrested by Ravana from his brother Kuvera, and sets out to proceed to<br />
Ayodhya.<br />
33
On the way the travellers descry the Sumeru mountain, the Malaya<br />
mountain, the Dandaka forest, the mountain Prasravana, the Godaveri<br />
river, mount Malyavan, Kundinipura in the Maharashtra country, the<br />
shrine of Bhimeswara, the city of Kanchi, Ujayin, the temple of<br />
Mahakala, Mahishmati the capital of Chedi, the Jumna and Ganga rivers,<br />
Varanasi, Mithila or Tirhut, and Champa near Bhagalpur.<br />
They then proceed westward to Prayaga, and Antarvedi or Doab, when they<br />
again follow an easterly course and arrive at Ayodhya.<br />
Bharata, Satrughna, Vasishtha the priest and the people of Ayodhya await<br />
the arrival of the party and receive them most cordially. Rama is now<br />
crowned king.<br />
VENI SAMVARANA OR VENI SANHARA<br />
OR<br />
"<strong>THE</strong> BINDING OF <strong>THE</strong> BRAID OF HAIR."<br />
Draupadi, the wife of the Pandavas, is dragged by the _veni_ or braid of<br />
hair into the public assembly by the hand of Duhsasana, one of the<br />
Kaurava princes, a disgrace that weighs most heavily upon the Pandavas,<br />
who contemplate most bitter revenge.<br />
Krishna returns to the Pandava camp from a visit to the Kaurava princes,<br />
as a mediator between the contending chiefs. Ferocious Bhima expresses,<br />
to his brother Sahadeva, his refusal to have any share in the<br />
negotiations instituted by Krishna and his determination to make no<br />
peace with the enemy until the insult offered to Draupadi is avenged. He<br />
announces his resolution, in case the dispute be amicably adjusted, to<br />
disclaim all connection with his own brothers, and throw off obedience<br />
to Judhishthira.<br />
The price of peace is the demand of five villages or towns,<br />
Indraprastha, Tilaprastha, Mansadam, Varanavatam, and another. Sahadeva<br />
attempts to calm the fury of Bhima, but in vain; and Draupadi, with her<br />
hair still dishevelled, and pining over her ignominious treatment, comes<br />
to inflame his resentment. She complains also of a recent affront<br />
offered by Bhanumati, the queen of Duryodhana, in an injurious comment<br />
upon her former exposure, which serves to widen the breach.<br />
Krishna's embassy is unsuccessful, and he effects his return only by<br />
employing his divine powers against the enemy. All the chiefs are<br />
summoned by the trumpet to prepare for battle.<br />
Before day-break, Bhanumati repeats, to her friend and an attendant, a<br />
34
dream in which she has beheld a _Nakula_ or Mungoose destroy a hundred<br />
snakes. This is very ominous, _Nakula_ being one of the Pandavas, and<br />
the sons of Kuru amounting to a hundred. Duryodhana overhears part of<br />
the story, and at first imagines the hostile prince is the hero of the<br />
vision. He is about to burst upon her, full of rage, and when he catches<br />
the true import of the tale, he is at first disposed to be alarmed by<br />
it, but at last wisely determines to disregard it.<br />
For, by Angira it is sung, the aspect of the planets, dreams and signs,<br />
meteors and portents, are the sports of accident, and do not move the<br />
wise. Bhanumati offers an _arghya_ of sandal and flowers to the rising<br />
sun to avert the ill omen, and then the king appears and soothes her.<br />
Their dialogue is disturbed by a rising whirlwind from which they take<br />
shelter in a neighbouring pavilion. The mother of Jayadratha, the king<br />
of Sindhu, then appears, and apprises Duryodhana that Arjuna has vowed,<br />
if sunset finds Jayadratha alive, he will sacrifice himself in the<br />
flames. His wrath is especially excited by the death of his son<br />
Abhimanyu, in which that chieftain had borne a leading part. Duryodhana<br />
laughs at her fears and those of his wife, and despises the resentment<br />
of the Pandavas. He observes, that this was fully provoked by the<br />
treatment which Draupadi received by his command, when in the presence<br />
of the court and of the Pandavas, she called out in vain for mercy.<br />
Duryodhana then orders his war-chariot and goes forth to the battle. Up<br />
to the period of the contest, the following chiefs have fallen,<br />
Bhagadatta, Sindhuraja, Angadhipa, Drupada, Bhurisravas, Somadatta, and<br />
Bahlika.<br />
Ghatotkacha is also slain, and Bhima is about to avenge his fall, on<br />
which account Hirimba, the queen of the Rakshasas and mother of<br />
Ghatotkacha, has ordered goblins to be ready to assist Bhimasena.<br />
Drona is seized by Dhrishtadyumna and slain. Aswatthama, the son of<br />
Drona, appears armed and is overtaken by his father's charioteer who<br />
tells him of the treachery by which Drona was slain, having been induced<br />
to throw away his arms by a false report that his son Aswatthama had<br />
perished, and been then killed at a disadvantage. Aswatthama's distress<br />
is assuaged by his maternal uncle Kripa, who recommends him to solicit<br />
the command of the host from Duryodhana.<br />
In the meantime, proud Kerna, the friend and ally of Duryodhana, fills<br />
the mind of the Kuru chief with impressions hostile to Drona and his<br />
son, persuading him that Drona only fought to secure Aswatthama's<br />
elevation to royal dignity, and that he threw away his life, not out of<br />
grief, but in despair at the disappointment of his ambitious schemes.<br />
Kripa and Aswatthama now arrive and Duryodhana professes to condole with<br />
Aswatthama for his father's loss. Kerna sneeringly asks him what he<br />
purposes, to which he replies:--<br />
"Whoever confident in arms is ranked amongst the adverse host--whomever<br />
the race of proud Panchala numbers, active youth, weak age or unborn<br />
35
abes, whoever beheld my father's murder, or whoever dares to cross my<br />
path, shall fall before my vengeance. Dark is my sight with rage, and<br />
Death himself, the world's destroyer, should not escape my fury."<br />
Kripa then requests Duryodhana to give the command of the army to<br />
Aswatthama. The king excuses himself on the plea of having promised it<br />
to Kerna, to whom he transfers his ring accordingly. A violent quarrel<br />
ensues between Kerna and Aswatthama, and Duryodhana and Kripa have some<br />
difficulty in preventing them from single combat. Fiery Aswatthama at<br />
last reproaches Duryodhana with partiality, and refuses to fight for him<br />
more. Bhima proclaims that he has at last encountered Duhsasana, the<br />
insulter of Draupadi, and is about to sacrifice him to his vengeance.<br />
Kerna, instigated by Aswatthama, foregoes his anger and is about to<br />
resume his arms when a voice from heaven prevents him. He is obliged,<br />
therefore, to remain an idle spectator of the fight, but desires Kripa<br />
to assist the king. They go off to fight.<br />
Duhsasana is killed and the army of the Kauravas is put to the rout.<br />
Duryodhana is wounded and becomes insensible. On his recovery, he hears<br />
of Duhsasana's death and gives vent to his sorrows.<br />
In the conflict between Arjuna and Vrishasena, the son of Kerna, the<br />
young prince is slain to his father's distress. Sundaraka, a follower of<br />
Kerna, brings a leaf on which Kerna has written to Duryodhana, with an<br />
arrow dipped in his own blood, message for aid. Duryodhana orders his<br />
chariot, and prepares to seek the fight again, when he is prevented by<br />
the arrival of his parents, Dhritarashtra and Gandhari, who with<br />
Sanjaya, endeavour to prevail upon Duryodhana to sue for peace, but he<br />
refuses.<br />
A tumult and the entrance of the king's charioteer announce the death of<br />
Kerna. Duryodhana, after expressing his grief, determines to go and<br />
avenge him, and mount the car of Sanjaya, the charioteer of<br />
Dhritarashtra, for that purpose, when Arjuna and Bhima arrive in search<br />
of him.<br />
On finding the seniors there, Arjuna purposes to withdraw; but Bhima<br />
insists on first addressing them, which they do, but in insulting terms.<br />
Dhritarashtra, reproaching them for this language, is told they use it<br />
not in pride, but in requital of his having witnessed, without<br />
interfering to prevent, the oppression and barbarous treatment the<br />
Pandavas experienced from his sons. Duryodhana interferes and defies<br />
Bhima, who is equally anxious for the combat; but Arjuna prevents it,<br />
and the brothers are called off by a summons from Yudhishthira, who<br />
orders the battle to cease for the day and the dead bodies of either<br />
party to be burnt. Aswatthama is now disposed to be reconciled to<br />
Duryodhana; but the prince receives his advances coldly, and he<br />
withdraws in disgust. Dhritarashtra sends Sanjaya after him to persuade<br />
him to overlook Duryodhana's conduct. Duryodhana mounts his car, and the<br />
aged couple seek the tent of Salya, the king of Madra.<br />
36
Duryodhana is discovered concealed in a swamp, and compelled to fight<br />
with Bhimasena, by whom he is slain. Yudhisthira orders public<br />
rejoicings on the occasion.<br />
Charvaka, a Rakshasa disguised as a sage, then enters, requiring rest<br />
and water. He relates that he has seen Arjuna engaged with Duryodhana,<br />
Bhima having been previously slain by the latter, and gives his hearers<br />
to understand that Arjuna also has fallen. Draupadi determines to mount<br />
the funeral pile, and Yudhishthira, to put an end to himself when the<br />
Rakshasa, satisfied with the success of his scheme, which was intended<br />
to prevail on this couple to perish, departs. The pile is prepared, and<br />
Yudhishthira and Draupadi are about to sacrifice themselves, when they<br />
are disturbed by a great clamour. Supposing it to precede the approach<br />
of Duryodhana, Yudhishthira calls for his arms, when Bhima, his club<br />
besmeared with blood, rushes in. Draupadi runs away; he catches her by<br />
the hair, and is seized by Yudhishthira--on which the mistake is<br />
discovered.<br />
The braid of Draupadi's hair is now again bound up. Arjuna and Vasudeva<br />
arrive, and announce that they have heard of the fraud of Charvaka. On<br />
hearing that the mendicant is slain by Nakula, Krishna expresses great<br />
satisfaction.<br />
CHANDA KAUSIKA<br />
OR<br />
<strong>THE</strong> OFFENDED VISWAMITRA.<br />
Maharaja Harischandra, a scion of the solar race, a powerful king,<br />
endowed with uncommon virtues and skilled in all arts, sees a vision of<br />
misfortune to come. Apprehending future evils for his subjects, he<br />
confers with his priest, and acting on his advice, spends a whole night<br />
in religious contemplation in a temple of God. Next morning the king<br />
enters the inner apartments of his palace to greet his wife. The queen,<br />
who is jealous on account of his absence during the night, says to him,<br />
"Oh! I see your eyes are red for want of sleep. The sight is not<br />
uninteresting; only, I am being consumed with the fires of agony of<br />
mind." The king, on hearing this, smiles and says, "Oh my dear queen! do<br />
not be angry. Be assured, you have no rival in Harischandra's<br />
affections".<br />
The queen is not altogether satisfied with this assurance, for love is<br />
suspicious. Just then, a messenger comes to request permission to bring<br />
in a hermit who is standing at the door. The permission is granted and<br />
the hermit enters. Addressing the King, he says, "The family priest has<br />
37
sent you some holy water, which will bring you peace of mind and ward<br />
off the evils for fear of which he made you keep up a whole night." The<br />
king and the queen thankfully accept the water. The hermit retires. The<br />
queen, now learning from the hermit the cause of her husband's absence<br />
from her, and of his wakefulness all night, becomes ashamed of herself<br />
and asks her lord's pardon for the false insinuation she had made. On<br />
this he kisses the queen.<br />
Again, the king goes on a hunting expedition. Hunting is a favourite<br />
pastime with kings. It promotes health and courage and gives immense<br />
pleasure to all who engage in it. When the king enters a thick forest,<br />
he finds the great sage Viswamitra deeply engaged in religious<br />
austerities with the view of acquiring the three unattainable arts of<br />
creation, preservation and destruction, which properly belong to Brahma,<br />
Vishnu and Siva respectively. The gods plot to prevent this<br />
consummation, and send a servant named Bighna. Bighna assumes the form<br />
of a boar and appears before the king. The king discharges an arrow at<br />
him, but in vain. The animal enters the thick forest. The king follows.<br />
It now enters the hermitage of Viswamitra. The king addresses his<br />
followers thus, "It is the duty of kings to get rid of carnivorous<br />
animals from the forest of meditation and austerities. I have, on the<br />
contrary, made a carnivorous animal enter it. How can I now retire? But<br />
the hermits will be disturbed in their religious exercises if you all<br />
enter. So, do you all wait here. I will proceed alone." With these<br />
observations, the king enters the forest of meditation and is charmed<br />
with its exquisite beauty.<br />
The king thinks, "Tearing off the bonds of the world is the cause of<br />
hermits' ease and happiness. With no attachments, no desires, no<br />
bereavements, no worldly anxieties, they are happily absorbed in divine<br />
contemplation." The king is thinking thus when distant cries are heard,<br />
as if females are crying out, "Maharaja Harischandra! save us! save us!<br />
Save us from the fire-place of this mighty hermit. We three helpless<br />
women are being burnt up."<br />
At this, the king is at a loss. His heart melts at the tender cries of<br />
the women. He extinguishes the flame with his weapon dedicated to<br />
Varuna, the god of the waters.<br />
The three ladies are the three arts of creation, preservation and<br />
destruction. They, thus delivered, go away to Heaven, showering<br />
blessings of victory on their deliverer.<br />
The meditations of the dreadful sage Viswamitra are thus broken off. His<br />
eyes are red with anger. Seeing Harischandra standing before him he<br />
cries out, "Oh wretch of a Kshattriya! I will burn you up as Siva did<br />
the god of love."<br />
The king is at a loss. He trembles as a plantain tree tossed up by<br />
tempest. He touches the feet of the sage and most piteously begs pardon<br />
of him.<br />
38
But the sage is obdurate. He will not be appeased. He is about to<br />
consume the offender with imprecation.<br />
The Raja again and again implores him thus:--<br />
"My lord Kausika! Forgive me. I was touched by the piteous appeals of<br />
the women and disturbed you for the sake of duty."<br />
At this, the sage becomes still more furious and says trembling, "O<br />
Villain! speak of duty! What is your duty?"<br />
The king replies,<br />
"O god! gifts to virtuous Brahmans, protection of those afflicted with<br />
fear, and fight with enemies are the three chief duties of Kshattriyas."<br />
The sage thereupon observes,<br />
"If compliance with duties be your aim, make some gift to me<br />
commensurate with my merit."<br />
The king replies, "Oh great sage! what have I got with which to make a<br />
due gift to you? I am prepared to give you what I have----this world<br />
with all its wealth. Please accept it."<br />
Then the sage becomes calm and says,<br />
"Be it so. I will not burn you up. I accept your gift of a kingdom. Now<br />
that you have made a gift, give me a fee of one thousand gold coins,<br />
commensurate with the gift. I will not accept the gift without the fee.<br />
But as you have made a gift of the world with all its wealth, you must<br />
not take the fee-money out of that world. Collect the money elsewhere."<br />
At this, the king is in a fix. After much thought it strikes him that it<br />
is said in the scriptures that Benares is separate from the world. So he<br />
resolves to collect money from that holy city.<br />
Then the king placing the crown and the sceptre of royalty at the feet<br />
of the sage, obtains from him one month's time to pay the fee and taking<br />
the queen Saibya and his son Rohitasya with him, starts for Benares. The<br />
month allowed him is drawing to a close. Not a single gold coin has been<br />
collected--to say nothing of one thousand coins. Alms is the only way of<br />
collection. Alms barely suffices for maintenance. On the morning of the<br />
last day, when he is deeply anxious for the money, the sage arrives.<br />
Seeing the latter, he almost faints.<br />
The sage whirls his eyes and asks, "Oh Harischandra! where is my fee?<br />
Pay at once, or I will burn you up." He replies in piteous and trembling<br />
tones, "The month will be completed by sunset. Please wait till sunset."<br />
39
The sage observes, "I will not listen to any more of your<br />
prevarications. I cannot grant your request."<br />
The king cries and repeatedly entreats the sage to wait till sunset.<br />
At this the queen and his son both weep.<br />
After many entreaties, the sage consents. Then the king again goes out<br />
a-begging, but in vain. Then he resolves to sell his person and goes<br />
about hawking himself in the streets.<br />
No one responds to his efforts. No buyer appears. At this time, a<br />
Brahmin with a disciple, asks whether a male or a female slave is for<br />
sale and intimates that he requires a female slave.<br />
The queen wipes her eyes and replies, "Yes, a female slave is for sale<br />
for fifty thousand gold coins. I, who am for sale as such, will obey all<br />
orders except eating table-refuse and indulging in improper intimacy<br />
with males." The Brahmin consents to the terms laid down, pays the<br />
required sum into the hands of the king and takes away the queen. The<br />
king then bewails her thus:--<br />
"It were far better if a thousand thunderbolts had fallen on my head. Oh<br />
my dear queen! Never even in a dream did I think that such a misfortune<br />
would befall you. You mistook a poisonous tree for a sandal-tree. Oh,<br />
how hard is my heart! It does not melt at the sight of my wife sold away<br />
as a slave. Even iron is melted by fire. Oh Providence! I can no longer<br />
bear up my sorrows. Oh Indra I break my head in pieces by thy<br />
thunderbolts."<br />
At this lamentation of the king, all present become sorry and express<br />
their regrets. After a little while, the sage arrives again, his body<br />
emitting sparks of fire. Seeing him at a distance, the king begins to<br />
tremble.<br />
As the sage comes up, the king bows to him and says,<br />
"My lord Kausika! I have procured only a half of your fee by the sale of<br />
my wife. Accept it. I shall presently pay the remaining half by the sale<br />
of my own person."<br />
The sage whirls his eyes and exclaims, "Is it a joke? Am I a fit object<br />
for a joke? What shall I do with only half the money? Just pay down the<br />
whole amount. See the sun is setting."<br />
The king replies, "O God! if this does not satisfy you, I pray you wait<br />
a little. If a Chandal is available, I will sell my person to him and<br />
pay your fee." The sage remarks:--<br />
"Then I will stand here and wait. Collect the money without delay."<br />
40
The king then hawks himself about, "Will any one buy me with half a lakh<br />
of gold coins, and deliver me from an ocean of sorrows." No one responds<br />
to his offer. No buyer appears. The sun is about to set. Death stares<br />
him in the face. Not that he fears death. Why should he fear it? He has<br />
given away his kingdom. His queen has been sold. Life has no further<br />
attraction for him. Death has been stripped of its terrors. But death by<br />
the fire of a Brahmin's anger leads to everlasting hell. He sees the<br />
vision of hell, falls down on the ground like a plantain tree blown by a<br />
tempest, and faints.<br />
Virtue preserves him who practises virtue. Virtue assumes the form of a<br />
Chandal and accompanied by an attendant, makes his appearance, with a<br />
half-burnt bamboo on his shoulders and a chain of skeletons round his<br />
neck. He is ready to buy the king, who now weeps bitterly, and holding<br />
the feet of the sage, entreats him thus:--<br />
"Oh lord Kausika! Do me a favour I pray you. Do not sell me to a<br />
Chandal. Do _you_ rather buy me. I shall be your slave for ever."<br />
On this, the sage flies into a rage and exclaims:--<br />
"Oh villain! Do not trifle with me. You have all this time been<br />
pretending that you want buyers. As soon as a buyer appears in the<br />
field, you feel ashamed to be sold to a Chandal! I cannot brook any more<br />
delay. I take up water to destroy you."<br />
The king begs his pardon, sells himself to the Chandal and pays down the<br />
fee to the sage, who then retires.<br />
The king now puts on the dress of a Chandal and is appointed with two<br />
others to collect rags in a burning-ground. Hideous is the<br />
burning-ground. Dogs and jackals are tearing up carcasses which lie<br />
scattered all round. Vultures are quarrelling among themselves. These<br />
sights unloosen the bonds that bind him to the world. The king is<br />
trembling with fear. His two colleagues have left him. But he will not<br />
leave his station. He must do his duty. The night deepens. The<br />
burning-ground becomes still more hideous. To try the king's sense of<br />
duty, Virtue once more becomes incarnate and this time appears before<br />
the king in a horrible form. The king has never before seen such a<br />
terrible sight, but still he will not leave his station. Not one or two<br />
but myriads of such forms dance before him, but in vain. The king<br />
exclaims, "No one shall be allowed to burn any corpse without depositing<br />
rags and couches with me. I am the agent of the lord of this<br />
burning-ground. I make this proclamation by order of my lord."<br />
No one responds. No voice is heard; only horrible figures are seen<br />
playing around him. After a while, a hermit comes and says.<br />
"I am a hermit. I have resolved to practise some _mantras_. I have come<br />
to know everything about you by my powers of _yoga_. You are a king and<br />
you should protect me from the demons that disturb my meditations."<br />
41
The king most humbly submits, "My body is not my own; I have sold it to<br />
the lord of the Chandals. How can I forsake my duty to my lord to save<br />
you?"<br />
The hermit says, "come and help me if I ever suffer extreme distress."<br />
The king replies, "If I can ever help you without detriment to the<br />
business of my lord, I am ready to do it." The hermit retires, and after<br />
a short time he returns; and says,<br />
"By your help I am now versed in all _mantras_. I am prepared to give<br />
you such a mantra as by its virtue you will be able at once to repair to<br />
Heaven. You need not suffer hell by slavery to a Chandal."<br />
The king replies, "Many thanks for your kind offer. But how can I accept<br />
your offer as this body belongs to a Chandal? I will not go anywhere<br />
before death."<br />
The hermit says, "Then take this money and deliver your wife."<br />
The king thankfully declines the offer with the observation, "I have<br />
sold my queen in my hour of need. To buy her back is not in my power."<br />
The hermit soliloquizes,<br />
"Blessed is Maharaja Harischandra! What fortitude! what wisdom! what<br />
generosity! what a sense of duty! The world has never produced a nobler<br />
man. A tempest shakes even the mountains, but behold! this noblest<br />
specimen of humanity is not moved by the severest of afflictions!<br />
It is morning. The birds are singing. The sun is up in the horizon. The<br />
king is sitting on the banks of the Ganges. He is thinking of his fate<br />
when he hears a female voice crying. He approaches the lady. The scene<br />
is horrible. An unfortunate lady, the queen Saibya who had been deserted<br />
by her husband, has come to burn her son, the support of her life. She<br />
was serving as a slave in the house of the Brahmin who had bought her.<br />
Her son Rohitashya, was stung by a deadly poisonous snake. No body would<br />
help her. She has come to the burning-ground to burn the dead body of<br />
her son. The queen weeps and faints. The king stares at the face of the<br />
corpse for a long time and at last recognises his dead son. He too<br />
faints. After a long time he recovers, and finds that the queen also has<br />
recovered. He thinks of committing suicide, but the body is not his<br />
own. He thinks of pacifying the queen by introducing himself, but his<br />
present costume will perhaps aggravate her sorrows. The queen, looking<br />
up to the skies, exclaims; "It is high time for me to return to the<br />
house of my master. I forget I am a slave. My master will be angry if I<br />
am late. My husband will incur blame if my master is angry. Let me go at<br />
once."<br />
The king reflects, "If my queen is so mindful of her duties to her<br />
master in the midst of such calamities, I must never forget my duty to<br />
42
my master."<br />
Then he approaches the queen and addresses her thus:--<br />
"Who are you? You are not allowed to burn the corpse before you give up<br />
its clothes to me, the slave of the lord of this place." She replies,<br />
"Please wait a little. I will take off the clothes."<br />
As the queen delivers the clothes into the hands of the slave, she<br />
notices signs of royalty in his hands and is surprised that such a hand<br />
is engaged in so low an office.<br />
"She looks attentively and exclaims in a wild voice, Oh my lord! Oh<br />
Maharaja! you a slave in this burning-ground! Oh lord Kausika! are you<br />
not yet satisfied?" The queen rushes to embrace the king. The king<br />
starts away from her and forbids her saying, "Oh my queen! do not touch<br />
me, I am the slave of a Chandal. Be patient." She faints again.<br />
The king cannot touch her as he is in the garb of a Chandal. After a<br />
while, the queen recovers, and the king addresses her thus:--<br />
"Oh my lady! Abandon lamentations. It is useless to lament. All this is<br />
the result of work in previous lives. I will prepare a funeral pyre.<br />
Apply the sacrament of fire to the dead body and return at once to the<br />
house of your master." The queen is disconsolate and wants to remain<br />
with her husband, who explains the situation thus:--"You have no right<br />
to remain here. Do not forget that your person has been sold to the<br />
Brahmin."<br />
The queen understands and sighs.<br />
All on a sudden, flowers are showered on their heads from Heaven, and<br />
musical voices are heard on high proclaiming.<br />
"Blessed is Maharaja Harischandra; Blessed is Rani Shaibya! unrivalled<br />
in this world is the liberality, the patience, the resolution and the<br />
wisdom of the king. No nobler man can be found in the three worlds."<br />
The king and the queen stare motionless towards the Heavens.<br />
Now virtue assumes the form of a hermit and makes this address.<br />
"Victory to Maharaja Harischandra! You have astonished the world, I am<br />
virtue incarnate. Virtue is never vain. As you have stuck to me all<br />
along, I must reward you. I will send you to the heaven of _Brahma_,<br />
where the greatest kings cannot enter by their truth, charity,<br />
straightforwardness and sacrifices. You need not lament any more. Be<br />
patient. By my blessing, your son Rohitashya will instantly regain<br />
life". Rohitashya now starts up.<br />
43
Then the king perceives, in clear vision acquired by the blessings of<br />
Virtue, that lord Kausika, in order to try his virtue, deprived him of<br />
his kingdom and placed the government in the hands of his own minister.<br />
The Chandal, who is his master, is not a real character but virtue<br />
incarnate.<br />
The Brahmin and his wife, who were the master and mistress of the queen,<br />
were not ordinary persons. The Brahmin was Siva, the god of gods,<br />
incarnate. The Brahmani was the goddess Durga incarnate. By order of<br />
virtue, the king and queen annoint, on the banks of the Ganges,<br />
Rohitashya as king-associate or Yuvaraja, and return to the capital,<br />
amidst the wild rejoicings of the subjects.<br />
After a short stay there, the happy couple repair to the heaven of<br />
_Brahma_.<br />
MADHURANIRUDDHA.<br />
The secret loves of Usha, the daughter of the Asura Bana, and Aniruddha,<br />
the grandson of Krishna, are intense. The sage Nareda apprises Krishna<br />
and Balarama, that Indra is again in dread of the demons, and especially<br />
of Bana, who has acquired the particular favour of Siva, and who is<br />
therefore not to be easily subdued. The conference ends by Nareda's<br />
going to Sonapur, the capital of the demon, to endeavour to impair the<br />
friendship between Bana and Siva, whilst Krishna and his brother await<br />
the result.<br />
The excessive arrogance of Bana, in his anxiety to match himself with<br />
Vishnu, has offended the latter, who has accordingly departed for<br />
Kailas, after announcing that Bana's anxiety shall be alleviated<br />
whenever his banner falls. Parvati has also gone to Kailas, after<br />
announcing to Usha that she will shortly behold her lover. Usha is<br />
impatient for the boon conferred by the goddess.<br />
Aniruddha is violently enamoured of a damsel he has seen in his sleep,<br />
and despairs of discovering who she is, when Nareda comes opportunely to<br />
his aid, and informs him that she is the daughter of Bana; on which<br />
Aniruddha determines to go to his capital, first propitiating Jwalamukhi<br />
by penance, in order to obtain the means of entering a city surrounded<br />
by a wall of perpetual flame. The goddess is the form of Durga,<br />
worshipped wherever a subterraneous flame breaks forth, or wherever<br />
jets of carburetted hydrogen gas are emitted from the soil.<br />
Bana's banner has fallen. His minister and wife endeavour to prevail on<br />
him to propitiate Siva, in order to avert the evil omen, but he refuses.<br />
Bringi, a servant of Durga, precedes Aniruddha to prepare the goddess to<br />
44
grant his request. As he proceeds in his aerial car, he notices the<br />
countries of Orissa, Bengal, Behar, Oude or Ayodhya, Prayaga, Hastinapur<br />
or Delhi and Kurujangal or Tahneser, whence he comes to Jwalamukhi.<br />
Aniruddha repairs to the shrine of the goddess round which goblins<br />
sport, and upon the point of offering himself as a sacrifice, is<br />
prevented by the goddess and receives from her the power of travelling<br />
through the air.<br />
Usha and Chitralekha, her companion, receive a visit from Nareda, in<br />
whose presence the latter unfolds a picture containing portraits of all<br />
the chief characters in Swerga, Patala, and on earth, or Indra, and<br />
other gods; Sesha, Takshaka and the Nagas, and different princes, as the<br />
kings of Magadha, Mathura, Avanti, Madra, Mahishmati, and Viderbha,<br />
Yudhishthira, Krishna, Baladeva, Pradyumna, and finally Aniruddha, whom<br />
Usha recognizes as the individual seen in her dream, and of whom she is<br />
enamoured. Nareda recommends that Chitralekha be sent to Dwaravati to<br />
invite Aniruddha, whom he enables to fly thither, whilst he remains in<br />
charge of Usha, whom he sends to the garden to await her lover's<br />
arrival.<br />
Aniruddha and Chitralekha arrive at Sonapur and the former is united to<br />
his mistress.<br />
Aniruddha is detected by Bana. An engagement ensues. Krishna, Baladeva,<br />
and Pradyumna coming to the aid of the prince, the day is going ill with<br />
Bana, when Kartikeya, Ganesha, and Siva and Chandi come to his succour.<br />
Notwithstanding the presence of his allies, Bana has all his thousand<br />
arms cut off by Krishna except four. Siva advances to the aid of his<br />
votary, when a combat ensues between the gods which combat Brahma<br />
descends to arrest. The gods embrace one another. Parvati and Brahma<br />
support Bana to make his submission.<br />
Vishnu declares he is less sensible of the wounds inflicted by Bana,<br />
than of the regret he feels at his presumption in contending with Siva.<br />
The latter consoles him by telling him he only did a warrior's duty, and<br />
that military prowess is independent of all motives of love or hatred.<br />
Parvati then brings Usha to the spot, and by her desire, and that of<br />
Siva, Bana gives his daughter to Aniruddha. Siva then elevates him to<br />
the rank of one of his attendants, under the name of Mahakala.<br />
SRIDAMA CHARITA.<br />
Poverty and Folly are sent by Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth, to assail<br />
Sridama, the early companion and fellow-student of Krishna, who has<br />
become obnoxious to the goddess for his attachment to Saraswati; the<br />
45
goddess of learning. They effect their purpose with Sridama, by<br />
demanding the rites of hospitality, and being accordingly admitted into<br />
his dwelling.<br />
Sridama is persuaded by his wife, Vasumati, who has seen a propitious<br />
dream, to repair to Krishna, to see if his opulent friend will restore<br />
his broken fortunes. He takes with him a handful of rice, dried and<br />
cleaned after boiling, as a present. He arrives at the palace of<br />
Krishna, where he is received with great respect by the host and his two<br />
principal wives, Rukmini and Satyabhama; the former washes his feet, the<br />
latter wipes them, and Krishna sprinkles the remaining water upon his<br />
own head. After recalling some of the occurrences of their juvenile<br />
days, when they were fellow-students, Krishna leads his friend into the<br />
garden, where they remain till towards sunset; when they are summoned to<br />
join the queens and their attendants. Krishna indulges in frolics among<br />
his women. The buffoonery of the Vidushaka amuses the party.<br />
After some time spent in this manner, Sridama takes his leave, and<br />
although dismissed with great reverence, departs as poor as he came. He<br />
recollects this on his way back, and consoles himself with observing<br />
that wealth intoxicates as well as wine, and that the affection of<br />
Krishna is a thing which no one can steal from him. His disciple is not<br />
so submissive, and reminds him that it was not to get mere civility that<br />
he was sent on this errand by his wife.<br />
On arrival, they find, instead of the miserable hovel of Sridama, a<br />
splendid and extensive town, and that Sridama is in great affliction at<br />
the disappearance of his wife, when he is seen and solicited by a<br />
_Kanchuli_ or chamberlain, who calls himself his servant, to enter a<br />
stately palace. Sridama, thinking this is a jest upon his poverty,<br />
threatens to beat him if he does not depart, but the chamberlain<br />
perseveres, and tells him that while he was absent, Krishna had<br />
converted his cottage into a town, named after him Sridamapur, and<br />
supplied it with every article of use or luxury. With much reluctance<br />
and unyielding incredulity Sridama is prevailed upon to enter the<br />
palace, where he finds his wife.<br />
Krishna now comes to pay a visit to his friend. He arrives in his aerial<br />
chariot, accompanied by Satyabhama and the Vidushaka. His bounties are<br />
heartily acknowledged by the object on whom they have been bestowed.<br />
KANSA BADHA<br />
OR<br />
<strong>THE</strong> DESTRUCTION OF KANSA.<br />
46
Kansa, the king of Mathura, alarmed by a voice from heaven, that<br />
Krishna, the son of his sister, predestined to destroy him, has escaped<br />
the precautions taken against him, consults with his minister what he<br />
shall do.<br />
The juvenile Krishna performs many exploits. He accomplishes the<br />
destruction of the demon Kesi, one of those infernal beings who in vain<br />
attempted to kill the divine child, instigated by their prescience of<br />
their fate when he should reach maturity.<br />
Akrura, the paternal uncle of Krishna, repairs to Gokul to invite his<br />
nephew to Mathura. Balarama and Krishna, after bowing to their foster<br />
parents, Nanda and Yasoda and receiving their benedictions, depart for<br />
Mathura.<br />
The seniors then express their grief for their loss. While the boys are<br />
proceeding on their journey, they are overtaken by a messenger from<br />
Radha, in consequence of which Krishna determines to spend some time at<br />
Vrindavan. They resume their journey to Mathura. On the way, the youths<br />
kill the royal elephant of Kansa. Then they defeat and slay Kansa's two<br />
wrestlers Chanura and Mushtika. These occurrences are reported to Kansa.<br />
The youths now reach his palace at Mathura and slay him. The boys are<br />
then re-united with their mortal parents Vasudeva and Devaki. To console<br />
Devaki for her brother's death, Krishna installs her father Ugrasena in<br />
the sovereignty of Mathura.<br />
YAYATI CHARITRA.<br />
Sermishtha was the daughter of Vrishaperva, king of the Daityas, and<br />
Devayani, the daughter of Sukra, regent of the planet Venus and the<br />
spiritual preceptor of the Daitya race. Devayani having incurred the<br />
displeasure of Sermishtha the latter threw the former into a well, where<br />
she was found by king Yayati, the son of Nahusha. Devayani, on returning<br />
to her father, excited his anger against Vrishaperva, who, to appease<br />
Sukra, consented to give his daughter to Devayani as her servant, with a<br />
thousand other female attendants. Devayani was married to Yayati. At the<br />
time of her marriage, Sukra obtained the king's promise that he would<br />
never associate with Sermishtha; but after some interval, the king<br />
meeting her, fell in love with, and espoused, her privately. The<br />
intrigue continued secret, until Yayati had two sons by Devayani and<br />
three by Sermishtha, when it was discovered by the former, and excited<br />
her resentment as well as that of her father. The violation of the<br />
king's promise was punished by premature decay, as denounced upon him by<br />
Sukra, with permission, however, to transfer his infirmities to anyone<br />
who would acccept them. Yayati appealed to his sons; of whom the<br />
youngest alone, Puru, consented to assume the burden. After a sufficient<br />
period, Yayati took his decrepitude back again, and left the<br />
47
sovereignty to Puru in reward of his filial piety.<br />
All the sons of Yayati were the founders of distinguished families. The<br />
Pauravas were the descendants of Puru in whose line the Kaurava and the<br />
Pandava families were comprised.<br />
KAUTUKA SERVASWA.<br />
Kalivatsala, or the darling of the age of iniquity, is the sovereign of<br />
Dhermanasa or the destruction of virtue, and he takes as his spiritual<br />
guide, Kukermapanchanana, the Siva of iniquity.<br />
Satyacharya, a pious Brahman returned from Brindavan, who is treated by<br />
the king and his courtiers with great iniquity, holds the following<br />
conversation with his brethren in jail.<br />
Satyacharya says: "How now, holy sirs, how fares it with you?"<br />
The Brahmans in jail reply: "We once had lands in free gifts."<br />
Satyacharya asks, "What then?"<br />
The Brahmans answer: "why, know you not the customs of the country? If<br />
the god of wealth owned lands here that yielded but a grain of corn, the<br />
king would send him in three days to beg alms, clad in tatters and with<br />
a platter in his hand. The characteristics of our sovereign are fondness<br />
for the intoxicating juice of _bhang_, esteem for the wicked, addiction<br />
to vice, and detestation of virtue."<br />
Satyacharya observes: "You are right, what chance is there for the good?<br />
The king is unwise, his associates are wicked, his chief councillor is a<br />
knave, and his minister, a scoundrel. Yet the people are many; why is<br />
not such misconduct resented?"<br />
The Brahmans reply, "The manners of the people are equally depraved;<br />
they are valiant in oppression, skilful in falsehood, and persevering<br />
only in contempt for the pious."<br />
Satyacharya asks, "How are the scribes?"<br />
The Brahmans answer, "They collect the revenues by any expedient, and<br />
vigilantly inflict penalties on the wise. The Brahmans are not allowed<br />
to keep even the dust upon their bodies; the dust accumulated on their<br />
feet is claimed by the Kayeths. What can we say of this reign? The dumb<br />
alone can speak the truth, the deaf hear the law, the sons of the barren<br />
are well-behaved, the blind behold the observance of the scriptures. Our<br />
lands have been given to drunkards, and we are detained in prison for<br />
48
what our ancestors expended."<br />
Satyacharya observes, "I have heard enough. Better fortunes attend you."<br />
The general Samara Jambuka, the jackal of war, boasts that he can cleave<br />
a roll of butter with his falchion. He trembles from top to toe at the<br />
approach of a mosquito.<br />
The king orders vice to be proclaimed virtue by beat of drum. All the<br />
Brahmans are perpetually banished.<br />
PRACHANDA PANDAVA<br />
OR<br />
<strong>THE</strong> OFFENDED SONS OF PANDU<br />
OR<br />
BALA BHARATA.<br />
Draupadi is married to the five sons of Pandu, in compliance with the<br />
command of their mother. Yudhishthira, the eldest son of Pandu, loses<br />
every thing including Draupadi at chess-play with Duryodhana, the eldest<br />
of the Kauravas. Draupadi is now dragged by the hair, almost naked, into<br />
the public assembly, an insult in revenge for which ferocious Bhima vows<br />
to slay Duhsasana, the insulter, and drink his blood, and ultimately<br />
fulfils his vow. The Pandava princes then depart to the forest.<br />
PROBODHA CHANDRODAYA<br />
OR<br />
"RISE OF <strong>THE</strong> MOON OF (TRUE) KNOWLEDGE."<br />
Religion and the noble king Reason, accompanied by all the Virtues<br />
namely Faith, Volition, Opinion, Imagination, Contemplation, Devotion,<br />
Quietude, Friendship and others, are banished, from Benares, by the evil<br />
king Error who reigns at Benares, surrounded by his faithful adherents,<br />
the Follies and Vices namely Self-conceit, Hypocrisy, Love, Passion,<br />
Anger, Avarice and others. There is, however, a prophecy that Reason<br />
will some day be re-united with Revelation; the fruit of the union will<br />
be True Knowledge, that will destroy the reign of Error.<br />
49
The struggle for this union and its consummation are followed by the<br />
final triumph of the good party.<br />
NAGANANDA<br />
OR<br />
JOY OF <strong>THE</strong> SERPENTS.<br />
Jimutavahana, a prince of the Vidyadharas, is a Buddhist. He marries<br />
Malayavati, daughter of the king of the Siddhas, a votary of the goddess<br />
Gauri, the wife of the great god Siva. When he comes to know that<br />
Garuda, the bird celebrated in mythology, is used to eat up one snake<br />
each day, he makes up his mind to offer himself to the bird as a victim,<br />
and eventually succeeds in converting Garuda to the principle of<br />
_Ahimsa_ or abstention from slaughter; but he himself is on the point of<br />
succumbing to the wounds he has received, when, through the timely<br />
intervention of the goddess Gouri, he recovers.<br />
DUTANGADA<br />
OR<br />
<strong>THE</strong> MISSION OF ANGADA.<br />
Angada, the son of Bali, is sent by Rama to Ravana to demand Sita. He<br />
executes his mission in a most clever and courageous manner. He then<br />
departs from Lanka. Ravana now goes forth to battle and is slain by<br />
Rama. The divine hero then enters the city of Lanka in triumph.<br />
PRADYUMNA VIJAYA.<br />
A pair of geese, the _Hansa_ and _Hansi_ inspire Prabhavati, the<br />
daughter of Vajranabha, and Pradyumna, the son of Krishna with a mutual<br />
passion before they have beheld each other. By their contrivance, secret<br />
nuptials are brought about.<br />
The sage Nareda communicates the stolen interviews of the lovers to the<br />
50
father of the damsel, to whose vengeance Pradyumna is about to fall a<br />
victim, when Krishna and Baladeva with their followers come to the<br />
rescue. A combat ensues in which Vajranabha is defeated and slain. The<br />
engagement is seen by two Gandherbas from their chariots in the air.<br />
VIDAGDHA MADHAVA.<br />
The loves of Krishna and Radha are intense. The two lovers often engage<br />
in jealous squabbles.<br />
Chandravali, a nymph of Vrindavan, is enamoured of Krishna and thus<br />
excites the jealousy of Radha.<br />
The Paurnamasi, the personified day of the full moon, interests herself<br />
in the union of Krishna and Radha.<br />
DHANANYAYA VIJAYA.<br />
The cattle of king Virat are carried off by Karna and the Kuru princes.<br />
Aryuna recovers them after a great battle. The different chiefs appear,<br />
threaten one another and praise themselves.<br />
Indra and some of his attendants contemplate the fight from the clouds.<br />
HASYARNAVA.<br />
The king Anasayindhu, in his progress through his city, regrets to find<br />
everything subverted: that Chandals, not Brahmans, make shoes; that<br />
wives are chaste and husbands constant; and that respect is paid to the<br />
respectable, not to the vile; and that Vyadhisindhu, the doctor, cures<br />
the cholic by applying a heated needle to the palate, and perforates the<br />
pupils of the eyes in order to restore vision.<br />
Sadhhinsaka, the chief of police, reports with great satisfaction that<br />
the city is completely in the hands of thieves; the Commander-in-chief<br />
Ranajambuka, after putting on his armour, valiantly cuts a leech in two.<br />
Mahayatrika, the astrologer, in answer to a question of the time to take<br />
a journey, indicates hours and positions which proclaim approaching<br />
death.<br />
51
A dispute ensues between Viswabhanda, a Saiva mendicant, and<br />
Kalahankura, his disciple, which they refer to the decision of<br />
Mahanindaka, another Brahman, who asserts that he composed the _vedas_<br />
and visited _Swerga_, where he treated Vrihaspati and Brahma with<br />
contempt and gave Siva a drubbing.<br />
CHITRA YAJNA.<br />
Daksha, the father of Sati or Bhavani and father-in-law of the great god<br />
Siva, institutes a great sacrifice.<br />
The gods and sages assemble on the occasion, Daksha accords them a<br />
cordial reception. He bows down to the feet of the gods, and puts the<br />
dust from under them upon his head. He then proceeds to the place of<br />
sacrifice, reading or reciting the usual formulae. He orders the<br />
attendants to distribute rice to the Brahmans, for the purpose of<br />
invoking their benedictions. They receive the rice, scatter it and<br />
pronounce the _Swasti Vachana_, or benedictory text. He offers oblation<br />
to fire.<br />
Dadhichi now comes to the sacrifice, when a dispute ensues between him<br />
and the sacrificer, upon the impropriety of omitting to invite Siva; and<br />
the dispute becoming rather hot, Daksha orders his guest to be turned<br />
out. The gods partake of Dadhichi's indignation at the disrespectful<br />
mention of Siva, and rise to depart. Daksha orders his servants to guard<br />
the door and prevent their going forth: the gods, however, force their<br />
way.<br />
The sages then also withdraw, on which Daksha goes out, exclaiming, "I<br />
will give double presents to those who remain." Nareda goes to Kailas<br />
with the news. He enters playing the _Vina_ and singing hymns in honour<br />
of the great god. Nareda's communication to Siva and Bhavani is very<br />
brief.<br />
Siva asks, "Now, Nareda, whence come you?" Nareda replies, "Your godship<br />
is omniscient, you know all that has happened, but have asked me through<br />
a wish to hear it from my lips. We were all invited to Daksha's<br />
sacrifice. Dadhichi, finding that you were not invited, took Daksha to<br />
task pretty sharply, and walked off, upon which I come to pay you my<br />
respects." Having said this and prostrated himself on the ground, the<br />
sage, with his lute hanging upon his neck, departed.<br />
Sati now asks leave to go and see her father.<br />
Siva replies, "It is quite contrary to etiquette, to go without an<br />
invitation." She answers, "I need not stand on ceremony with my father."<br />
52
Siva observes, "How! would you impose upon me with falsehoods? Daksha is<br />
not your father, nor is his wife your mother, you are the father of all<br />
things, the mother of the universe. Those versed in the _Vedas_ declare<br />
you male and female too."<br />
In the end, she is allowed to follow her own inclinations.<br />
She comes to her father, and vainly endeavours to impress him with<br />
respect for her husband. She quits him to throw herself into the<br />
sacrificial fire.<br />
Nareda then appears and tells Daksha to prepare for the consequences of<br />
his folly. Virabhadra, Siva's attendant, then enters and plays some<br />
antics. Shaking the earth with his tread, and filling space with his<br />
extended arms, he rolls his eyes in wrath. Some of the gods he casts on<br />
the ground and tramples on them; he knocks out the teeth of some with<br />
his fists, plucks out the beards of some, and cuts off the ears, arms,<br />
and noses of others; he smites some, and he tosses others into the<br />
sacrificial fire. He decapitates the cause of his master's indignation,<br />
the haughty Daksha.<br />
MRIGANKALEKHA.<br />
Mrigankalekha is the daughter of the king of Kamarupa or Assam: she is<br />
beheld by Karpuratilaka, the king of Kalinga, whilst hunting, and the<br />
parties are mutually enamoured.<br />
The obstacle to their union is the love of Sankhapala, a demon, to<br />
oppose whose supernatural powers, Ratnachura, the minister of the king<br />
of Kalinga, who alone is aware of the circumstance, invites to the<br />
palace a benevolent magician, Siddhayogini, and Mrigankalekha is also<br />
lodged in the palace as the friend of the queen Vilasavati.<br />
Notwithstanding these precautions, she is carried off by Sankhapala to<br />
the temple of Kali, which is surrounded by goblins. During the Raja's<br />
peregrinations in his love-frenzy, he passes disconsolate through a wood<br />
in which he inquires of different animals if they have seen his<br />
mistress.<br />
He now comes to the temple, rescues her, and kills Sankhapala. He is<br />
then united to Mrigankalekha in the presence of her father and brother,<br />
and with the consent of the queen. Before the conclusion of the marriage<br />
rite, he kills also the brother of Sankhapala, who comes to revenge him<br />
in the form of a wild elephant.<br />
The marriage is thus effected through the secret contrivance of the<br />
53
minister, because the lady's husband is to become the master of the<br />
world.<br />
MUDRARAKSHASA<br />
OR<br />
RAKSHASA (<strong>THE</strong> MINISTER) WITH <strong>THE</strong> SIGNET<br />
OR<br />
RAKSHASA AND <strong>THE</strong> SIGNET-RING<br />
OR<br />
RAKSHASA KNOWN BY <strong>THE</strong> SIGNET-RING.<br />
The city of Pataliputra or Palibothra, the capital of the Nandas, was<br />
situated not far from the confluence of the Ganges and the Sone; and was<br />
on the southern side of the rivers. Nanda, the last king of the Nanda<br />
line, had for his minister the able and experienced Rakshasa.<br />
Chandragupta also called Vrishala and Maurya is identical with<br />
Sandrakottus represented by the Greek writers as the most powerful Raja<br />
in India at the time of Alexander the Great's death. He was a sovereign<br />
of dignity and strength of character and had a high respect for his<br />
minister Chanakya, the Indian Macchiavelli, who was a crafty,<br />
clearheaded, self-confident, intriguing and hard politician, with the<br />
ultimate end of his ambition thoroughly well-determined and directing<br />
all his clearheadedness and intrigue to the accomplishment of that end.<br />
This minister, also called Vishnugupta, is famous as a writer on _Nity_<br />
or "rules of government and polity", and the reputed author of numerous<br />
moral and political precepts commonly current in India. Nanda is slain<br />
by the contrivances of this wily Brahman, who thus assists Chandragupta<br />
to the throne, and becomes his minister. Rakshasa refuses to recognise<br />
the usurper and endeavours to be avenged on him for the ruin of his late<br />
master.<br />
After the assassination of Nanda, Servarthasiddhi is placed on the<br />
throne by Rakshasa but he retires to a life of devotion. Saileswara or<br />
Parvataka or Parvateswara, the king of the Mountains, at first the ally<br />
of Chandragupta, afterwards befriended his opponents and is therefore<br />
slain privily by Chanakya. Vairodhaka, the brother of Parvataka, is<br />
killed by Rakshasa's emissaries by mistake for Chandragupta.<br />
Malayaketu, the son of Parvataka, is a prince whose confidence and<br />
distrust are alike misplaced, who is thoughtless, suspicious, wanting in<br />
dignity, and almost child-like, not to say childish. He leads an army<br />
54
against Chandragupta but without success. He is so rash and<br />
inconsiderate as to resolve most hastily to undertake war against five<br />
kings at a time.<br />
Rakshasa is a brave soldier but a blundering and somewhat soft-natured<br />
politician, whose faithfulnesss to his original master Nanda prompts him<br />
to wreak vengeance on Chandragupta and Chanakya. He has ultimately to<br />
abandon in despair his self-imposed task, the great aim of his life,<br />
being foiled by the arts of his adversary Chanakya. The proximate motive<br />
of the abandonment, however, is the duty of repaying favours received by<br />
him when he was engaged in his attempts at vengeance. He accidentally<br />
acquires a ring.<br />
Chanakya, whose ability and diplomatic skill are of a high order, lays<br />
out various plottings and machinations to make Chandragupta the<br />
paramount sovereign in India, by winning over the noble Rakshasa to his<br />
master's cause. He tries successfully to effect a reconciliation between<br />
his protege, and Rakshasa. With this view Rakshasa is rendered by the<br />
contrivances of Chanakya an object of suspicion to the prince Malyaketu<br />
with whom he has taken refuge and is consequently dismissed by him.<br />
In this deserted condition he learns the imminent danger of a dear<br />
friend Chandandasa whom Chanakya is about to put to death, and in order<br />
to effect his liberation surrenders himself to his enemies.<br />
They offer him, contrary to his expectations, the rank and power of<br />
Prime Minister, and the parties are finally friends.<br />
The Nanda dynasty thus comes to an end and Chandragupta becomes the<br />
founder of the Maurya dynasty.<br />
A curious scene in the last Act may be noticed here. A Chandala or<br />
executioner leads a criminal to the place of execution. The latter bears<br />
a stake (_Sula_) on his shoulder, and is followed by his wife and son<br />
who use no expressions suggestive of tenderness but only of sacrifice--a<br />
stern sense of duty. At the impending execution of her husband, she<br />
neither faints nor becomes disconsolate but simply weeps and talks of<br />
her duty.<br />
The executioner calls out--"Make way, make way, good people! let every<br />
one who wishes to preserve his life, his property, or his family, avoid<br />
transgressing against the king as he would, poison." This criminal is<br />
Chandan Das who is put into chains with a view to force his friend<br />
Rakshsa to yield. He gives up his life and property for the sake of his<br />
friend Rakshasa. This conduct is described as casting into the shade the<br />
noble acts of even the Buddhas.<br />
VIDDHA SALABHANJIKA<br />
55
OR<br />
<strong>THE</strong> CARVED STATUE.<br />
Vidyadhar Malla, the chief of the Karachuli race, a Rajput tribe, was<br />
the king of Triling and Kalinga. Bhagurayana was his minister. Charayana<br />
was his Vidushaka or confidential attendant. Chandraverma, the king of<br />
Lata, was the maternal uncle-in-law of Vidyadhar Malla. He had no son.<br />
To satisfy his desire for a son, he dressed his only daughter<br />
Mrigankavali as a son to pass her off as such. People knew that the<br />
child was a son.<br />
Bhagurayana had heard from the sages that "whosoever shall wed the<br />
daughter of Chandravarma shall become the paramount sovereign." So he<br />
told Chandravarma, "My king desires to see your son." Upon this<br />
Chandravarma sent his child to the queen of Vidyadhara Malla to be taken<br />
care of by her. Thus the minister contrived to bring Mrigankavali to the<br />
palace of his king.<br />
One day, while the king is asleep, Mrigankavali puts a necklace on the<br />
neck of the king, being induced by a maid-servant who had instructions<br />
to do so by the minister. The king takes this as a wonderful dream. The<br />
vision of a beautiful maid agitates his mind. The king thus relates to<br />
Bidushaka the story of his fancied vision, "for the burden of the heart<br />
is lightened by sharing it with a faithful friend."<br />
"A glorious halo appeared before me in my dream, bright as the moon's<br />
resplendent disk; within the orb a beauteous maiden moved as gently<br />
radiant as the lunar rays in autumn skies.<br />
Advancing near me, she inclined her head in reverence, and, as if<br />
pouring ambrosia into my ears, pronounced in softest tones,<br />
'Glory to the deity of love!' Then sighing, she took up this string of<br />
costly pearls and placed it on my neck. This awoke me, I started up and<br />
saw my vision realised. I caught the nymph by her scarf, but she hastily<br />
extricated herself from my hands and fled, leaving me this necklace<br />
alone the evidence of her presence." Bidushaka asks his Majesty, "Was<br />
not the queen with you when you dreamt? What did she do?"<br />
The king replies, "The queen got angry and left me." Bidushaka remarks,<br />
"Why could not you assuage her anger?"<br />
The king answers, "I was absorbed in the maid of my vision."<br />
The Vidushaka, however, treats the whole as a dream, and reproaches the<br />
king for his fickleness, as he had just before fallen in love with<br />
Kuvalayamala, the princess of Kuntala, and recommends him to be content<br />
with the queen, as "a partridge in the hand is better than a pea-hen in<br />
56
the forest."<br />
The prince and the Vidushaka then go into the garden by the back-door,<br />
where, over the edge of a terrace, they see some of the fair tenants of<br />
the inner apartments amusing themselves with swinging. Amongst them the<br />
king recognises the countenance he has seen in his dream, but the party<br />
disappear on the advance of the king and his friend.<br />
The king then enters a pleasure-house or pavilion called the<br />
_kelikailas_ or mountain of sport built for him by the minister.<br />
It is a beautiful palace built of crystal, and decorated with statues<br />
and paintings. One of the paintings is thus described:<br />
"There is your Majesty at _pasa_ (dice) with the queen: behind you<br />
stands one damsel with the betel box, whilst another is waving the<br />
_chownri_ over your head: the dwarf is playing with the monkey, and the<br />
parrot abusing the Vidushaka." The chamber also contains the portrait of<br />
Mrigankavali, the damsel whom the prince has really seen in his supposed<br />
dream. There is also a statue of her, whence the drama is named _Viddha<br />
Salabhanjika_, meaning a curved statue or effigy.<br />
The king discovers the statue. He thinks, "Who will carve on the wall<br />
the person I dreamed of? No one was present when I dreamt. Has anyone<br />
carved the statue out of his fancy? A real person may exist in this<br />
world or how can an exact figure come here?"<br />
He now verily believes the dream to be a reality. He then puts the<br />
necklace of his dream on the neck of the carved statue.<br />
Finally the lady is herself beheld through the transparent wall of the<br />
pavilion, but runs away on being observed. The king becomes enamoured of<br />
her. He and his friend follow her but in vain. The bards proclaim it at<br />
noon, and the two friends repair to the queen's apartments to perform<br />
the midday ceremonies.<br />
Kuvalayamala, the object of the king's passion before encountering his<br />
new flame, is the daughter of Chandramahasena, the king of Kuntala. She<br />
has been sent to Vidyadhara Malla's queen, as the betrothed bride of the<br />
supposed son of Chandraverma, who is the queen's maternal uncle.<br />
Mekhala, the queen's foster-sister, practises a frolic on Charayana. He<br />
is promised a new bride by the queen, and the ceremony is about to take<br />
place when the spouse proves to be a "lubberly boy"; he is highly<br />
indignant at the trick, and goes off threatening vengeance.<br />
The king having followed and pacified his companion, they go off into<br />
the garden, where they see the damsel Mrigankavali playing with ball:<br />
she still however flies their advance. Presently they overhear a<br />
conversation between her and one of her companions, from which it<br />
appears, that notwithstanding her shyness she is equally enamoured of<br />
the king.<br />
57
Her dress is the contrivance of the minister, at whose instigation,<br />
Mrigankavali is persuaded by Sulakshana to believe that she is to behold<br />
the present deity of love, and is introduced by a sliding door into the<br />
king's chamber. The consequence of the interview is to render<br />
Mrigankavali passionately enamoured of the king.<br />
One day, the queen, in order to deceive Charayana, manages to celebrate<br />
a marriage between him and a son of a maid-servant veiled as a female.<br />
The trick is discovered. He is highly indignant.<br />
He now retaliates with the help of the king. He induces Sulakshana, one<br />
of the female attendants of the queen, to ascend a _Bakula_ tree and<br />
thence send a message in a nasal tone, as if from the sky, to Mekhala,<br />
the foster-sister and chief attendant of the queen.<br />
"Thou shalt die at this spot on the full moon day of _Baisakh_." After<br />
many entreaties, the heavenly voice prescribes a relief, "Thou art safe<br />
if thou canst pass through the legs of a Brahmin skilled in music and<br />
gratified with a fee." Charayana, just the kind of Brahmin required,<br />
arrives at this juncture. The king and the queen are present. Mekhala<br />
and the queen, both overcome with concern, entreat Charayana to be the<br />
Brahmin that shall preserve the life of the former. He consents. As<br />
Mekhala tries to pass between his legs, he mounts on her back and says,<br />
"you are now caught in your turn. You deceived me once. Now marry me."<br />
He triumphs in the humiliation he has inflicted on her. The queen now<br />
perceives the intrigue of the king, is in her turn incensed, goes off in<br />
a pet and resolves to take revenge.<br />
Chandamahasen, the king of Kuntala as a defeated prince now resides with<br />
his daughter Kubalayamala under the protection of the victorious king.<br />
The king sees her one day as she rises after bathing in the Narbadda. He<br />
becomes enamoured of her and wishes to marry her. The queen gets scent<br />
of the matter. To prevent the curse of co-wifeship, the queen now<br />
resolves to get her husband married to the son of her maternal uncle so<br />
that he may be ashamed into abandoning his polygamous tendency.<br />
The king and the Vidushaka seek the garden, where it is now moon-light.<br />
Mrigankavali and her friend Vilakshana also come thither, and the lovers<br />
meet: this interview is broken off by a cry that the queen is coming,<br />
and they all separate abruptly.<br />
At dawn, Charayana's wife is asleep. In her sleep, however, she is very<br />
communicative, and repeats a supposed dialogue between the queen and the<br />
Raja, in which the former urges the latter to marry Mrigankavali, the<br />
sister of the supposed Mrigankavarma, come on a visit, it is pretended,<br />
to her brother--this being a plot of the queen's to cheat the king into<br />
a sham marriage, by espousing him to one she believes to be a boy.<br />
The Vidushaka suspects the trick, however, and wakes his wife, who rises<br />
and goes to the queen. The Vidushaka joins his master. The king, who is<br />
58
already the husband of the princesses of Magadha, Malava, Panchala,<br />
Avanti, Jalandhara and Kerala, is wedded to Mrigankavali. As soon as the<br />
ceremony is gone through, a messenger from the court of Chandraverma<br />
arrives to announce:--<br />
"O queen! His Majesty Chandravarma wishes it to be known that<br />
Mrigankavarma is not his son but his daughter. In the absence of a son<br />
he dressed her as such to satisfy his desire for a son. Now that a son<br />
has been born to him, it is not necessary to keep up the pretence. The<br />
king requests you to settle a suitable marriage for her. The sages have<br />
prophesied paramount sovereignty for her husband."<br />
The queen becomes stunned and soliloquises:--<br />
"What is play to me, Providence ordains to be a stern fact. Man<br />
proposes, God disposes." She now finds that she has taken herself in,<br />
and given herself another rival wife. As the matter is past remedy,<br />
however, she assents with a good grace. The minister is glad that his<br />
aims are fulfilled. All are happy, Why should Kuvalayamala alone be<br />
sorry? The queen therefore allows her lord to marry Kuvalyamala.<br />
To crown the king's happiness, a messenger, sent by the General of His<br />
Majesty's forces, now arrives from the camp with the news that the<br />
allied armies of Kernata, Simhala, Pandya, Murala, Andhra, and Konkana<br />
have been defeated, and Virapala, king of Kuntala, the ally of<br />
Vidyadhara Malla, reseated on a throne, from which his kinsman,<br />
supported by those troops, had formerly expelled him. The authority of<br />
Vidyadhara Malla as paramount sovereign is now declared to extend from<br />
the mouths of the Ganges to the sea, and from the Narbada to the<br />
Tamraperni in the Deccan.<br />
RATNAVALI OR <strong>THE</strong> NECKLACE.<br />
A holy seer announces to Yaugandharayana, the chief minister of Vatsa,<br />
the king of Kausambi, that whoever shall wed Ratnavali, the fair<br />
daughter of Vikramabahu, the king of _Sinhala_ or Ceylon and maternal<br />
uncle of Vasavadatta, the queen of Vatsa, should become the emperor of<br />
the world. The faithful minister, desirous of securing paramount<br />
sovereignty for his master, sends, without his knowledge and consent, an<br />
envoy to the court of Vikramabahu to negotiate the match. Vikramabahu<br />
declines to inflict the curse of co-wifeship upon his daughter and<br />
niece. The disappointed envoy returns home.<br />
The premier is sorry, but does not lose hope. After much deliberation,<br />
he hits upon an ingenious device. He proclaims in Ceylon by agents that<br />
queen Vasavadatta is dead, being burnt by chance and that the king,<br />
though much grieved, has at last consented, at the request of friends<br />
59
and relatives, to marry again. The intelligence reaches the ears of<br />
Vikramabahu who believes it.<br />
The premier now sends Babhravya as envoy to the Court of Ceylon to<br />
reopen the question of Ratnavali's marriage with Vatsa. Vikramabahu,<br />
after consulting his queen, consents to the proposal. He has Ratnavali<br />
decked in all ornaments including a single-stringed necklace round her<br />
neck and sends her away on board a ship, in company with his own<br />
ambassador Vasubhuti and Babhravya. He waits on the shore till the ship<br />
is out of sight and then returns home sorry at parting with his<br />
daughter.<br />
A terrible tempest wrecks the ship. A merchant of Kausambi finds<br />
Ratnavali floating in mid-sea, saves her life and brings her to the<br />
minister who thanks him heartily for the favour and offers a reward. The<br />
merchant thus expresses his unwillingness to accept it, "Sir, under the<br />
rule of our gracious king, the weak do not fear the strong; the rich<br />
cannot oppress the poor; the word "robber" has become obsolete; the sick<br />
and the orphans are being treated by the best of physicians and are free<br />
from any want of food and clothing; children are being properly<br />
educated; drought is never heard of; the highways are wide, clean, and<br />
well-guarded; communications are safe. If any loyal subject can be of<br />
any service to such a king, he does only his bare duty and should not<br />
accept any reward." He at last accepts the reward at the repeated<br />
requests of the minister and goes home.<br />
Then the minister interviews the queen, conceals the real facts and<br />
addresses her thus:--<br />
"May it please your Majesty. I have received this girl from a merchant<br />
who told me that he had rescued her in the sea, but could not say<br />
anything more about her and her whereabouts. From her appearance she<br />
seems to be a respectable lady. I beseech your Majesty to take care of<br />
her." The queen takes the girl as one of her attendants--the girl who is<br />
destined to make her husband the lord of the world! The queen names her<br />
Sagarika or the Ocean Maid. The princess, who has been attended by<br />
hundreds of maidservants, is now reduced, by a strange irony of fate,<br />
to the position of a maid-servant herself!<br />
The Chamberlain Babhravya and Vasubhuti by some means reach the shore<br />
and are on their way to _Kausambi_.<br />
Vatsa comes forth to behold from the terrace of his palace the frolic<br />
merriment with which his subjects celebrate the festival of _Kamadeva_,<br />
the god of love. Wearied of tales of war, and seeking most his<br />
reputation in his people's hearts, he issues forth attended by his<br />
confidential companion Vasantaka, like the flower-armed deity himself,<br />
descended to take a part in the happiness of his worshippers. The king<br />
observes:--<br />
"I scarcely can express the content I now enjoy. My kingdom is rid of<br />
60
every foe; the burden of my government reposes on able shoulders; the<br />
seasons are favourable; and my subjects, prosperous and happy. In<br />
Vasavadatta, the daughter of Pradyota, I have a wife whom I adore, and<br />
in Vasantaka, a friend in whom I can confide. Attended by such a friend,<br />
at such a season, and so disposed I might fancy myself the deity of<br />
desire, and this vernal celebration held in honour of myself. Kausambi<br />
outvies the residence of the god of wealth. Her numerous sons are clad<br />
in cloth of gold, decked with glittering ornaments and tossing their<br />
heads proudly with splendid crests.<br />
Vasantaka says:--<br />
"Observe the general joy. As if intoxicated with delight, the people<br />
dance along the streets, sporting merrily with each other's persons and<br />
mutually scattering the yellow-tinted fluid. On every side, the music<br />
of the drum and the buzz of frolic crowds fill all the air. The very<br />
atmosphere is of a yellow hue, with clouds of flowery fragrance."<br />
At the request of the queen, conveyed through her attendants, the king<br />
proceeds with his friend to join her in offering homage to the image of<br />
the flower-armed deity, which stands at the foot of the red _Asoka_<br />
tree. The queen enters the garden accompanied by Kanchanmala, her<br />
principal attendant, Sagarika and other damsels. Noticing Sagarika, the<br />
queen thinks, "What carelessness! an object I have hitherto so<br />
cautiously concealed, thus heedlessly exposed! I must remove her hence<br />
before the arrival of the king." She says, "How now, Sagarika, what<br />
makes you here? where is my favourite starling, that I left to your<br />
charge, and whom it seems you have quitted for this ceremony? Return to<br />
your place." Sagarika withdraws to a short distance and thinks, "the<br />
bird is safe with my friend Susangata. I should like to witness the<br />
ceremony. I wonder if _Annaga_ is worshipped here as in my father's<br />
mansion! I will keep myself concealed amongst the shrubs and watch them,<br />
and for my own presentation to the deity I will go, cull a few of these<br />
flowers." The king now joins the queen. Kanchanmala delivers the<br />
accustomed gifts of sandal, saffron, and flowers to the queen, who<br />
offers them to the image. The king thus eulogises the beauty of the<br />
queen, "Whilst thus employed, my love, you resemble a graceful creeper<br />
turning round a coral tree: your robes of the orange dye, your person<br />
fresh from the bath. As rests your hand upon the stem of the _Asoka_,<br />
it seems to put forth a new and lovelier shoot. The unembodied god<br />
to-day will regret his disencumbered essence, and sigh to be material,<br />
that he might enjoy the touch of that soft hand."<br />
The worship of the divinity concluded, the queen worships the king.<br />
Sagarika views the scene, mistakes the king for the god and observes,<br />
"What do I see? Can this be true? Does then the deity, whose effigy only<br />
we adore in the dwelling of my father, here condescend to accept in<br />
person the homage of his votaries? I, too, though thus remote, present<br />
my humble offering."<br />
She throws down the flowers and continues:--"Glory to the flower-armed<br />
61
god: may thy auspicious sight both now and hereafter prove not to have<br />
been vouchsafed to me in vain!"<br />
She bows down, then rising looks again, and observes:--<br />
"The sight, though oft repeated, never wearies. I must tear myself from<br />
this, lest some one should discover me." She then withdraws a little,<br />
hears a bard sing a ballad in praise of the king, perceives her mistake<br />
and asks herself, "Is this Udayana, to whom my father destined me a<br />
bride?" She becomes enamoured of the king. The king and the queen now<br />
rise to return to the palace.<br />
Sagarika thinks, "They come! I must fly hence. Ah me, unhappy! no longer<br />
to behold him, whom I could gaze upon for ever."<br />
The king addresses his queen thus:--"Come, love, thou puttest the night<br />
to shame. The beauty of the moon is eclipsed by the loveliness of thy<br />
countenance, and the lotus sinks humbled into shade; the sweet songs of<br />
thy attendant damsels discredit the murmurs of the bees, and mortified<br />
they hasten to hide their disgrace within the flowery blossom." The king<br />
and the queen return to the palace.<br />
Sagarika enters a plantain bower with a brush and pallet in order to<br />
paint a picture and soliloquises thus: "Be still, my foolish heart, nor<br />
idly throb for one so high above thy hopes. Why thus anxious to behold<br />
that form, one only view of which has inspired such painful agitation?<br />
Ungrateful, too, as weak, to fly the breast that has been familiar to<br />
thee through life, and seek another, and as yet but once beheld, asylum.<br />
Alas! Why do I blame thee! the terror of _Ananga's_ shaft has rendered<br />
thee a fugitive;--let me implore his pity. Lord of the flowery bow,<br />
victor of demons and of gods! dost thou not blush to waste thy might<br />
upon a weak defenceless maiden, or art thou truly without form and<br />
sense? Ah me, I fear my death impends, and this the fatal cause." She<br />
looks at the picture and goes on, "No one approaches; I will try and<br />
finish the likeness I am here attempting to portray. My heart beats<br />
high, my hand trembles, yet I must try, and whilst occasion favours me,<br />
attempt to complete these lineaments, as the only means to retain them<br />
in my sight." She draws the picture, raising her head beholds her friend<br />
Susangata with a _Sarika_ or talking bird in a cage, and hides the<br />
picture. Susangata sits down, puts her hand upon the picture and asks,<br />
"who is this you have delineated?"<br />
Sagarika answers, "The deity of the festival, _Ananga_." Susangata<br />
observes, "It is cleverly done, but there wants a figure to complete<br />
it. Let me have it, and I will give the god his bride." She takes the<br />
paper and draws the likeness of Sagarika. Sagarika expresses anger. Her<br />
friend remarks, "Do not be offended without cause. I have given your<br />
_Kamadeva_ my _Rati_, that is all. But come, away with disguise, and<br />
confess the truth." Seeing that her friend has discovered her secret,<br />
Sagarika is overcome with shame and entreats her to promise that no body<br />
else shall be made acquainted with her weakness. Her friend replies,<br />
62
"why should you be ashamed? Attachment to exalted worth becomes your<br />
native excellence. But be assured I will not betray you; it is more<br />
likely this prattling bird will repeat our conversation." The friend<br />
brings some leaves and fibres of the lotus, and binds the former with<br />
the latter upon Sagarika's bosom. She exclaims, "Enough, enough, my<br />
friend, take away these leaves and fibres,--it is vain to offer relief.<br />
I have fixed my heart where I dare not raise my hopes. I am overcome<br />
with shame--I am enslaved by passion--my love is without return--death,<br />
my only refuge." She faints and recovers after a short while. A noise<br />
behind proclaims that a monkey has escaped from the stable, and,<br />
rattling the ends of his broken chain of gold, he clatters along. Afraid<br />
of the advent of the monkey, they both rush to hide in the shade of a<br />
_tamala_ grove, leaving the drawing behind. The ape breaks the cage to<br />
get at the curds and rice and lets the _Sarika_ fly.<br />
Vasantaka now notices that the jasmine has been covered with countless<br />
buds, as if smiling disdainfully upon the queen's favourite _Madhavi_.<br />
He is surprised at the most marvellous power of the venerable<br />
Sri-Khanda-Dasa, a great sage come to court from _Sri-Parvata_, by whose<br />
simple will the strange event has happened. He thinks of going to the<br />
king to inform his Majesty when the king appears. He congratulates his<br />
Majesty, on his propitious fortune. The king observes, "Inconceivable is<br />
the virtue of drugs, and charms, and gems. Lead the way, and let these<br />
eyes this day obtain by the sight the fruit of their formation."<br />
Vasantaka advances, stops to listen and turns back in alarm for he<br />
fancies a goblin in yonder _Bakula_ tree. The goblin turns out a<br />
starling. The courtier remarks, "she says, give the Brahman something to<br />
eat." The king observes, "something to eat is ever the burden of the<br />
glutton's song. Come, say truly, what does she utter. The friend listens<br />
and repeats, "Who is this you have delineated? Do not be offended<br />
without cause; I have given your _Kamadeva_ my _Rati_. Why should you be<br />
ashamed? Attachment to exalted worth becomes your native excellence.<br />
Take away these lotus leaves and fibres--it is in vain you strive to<br />
offer me relief. I have fixed my heart where I dare not raise my<br />
hopes;--I am overcome with shame and despair, and death is my only<br />
refuge." The king interprets thus:--"Oh, I suppose some female has been<br />
drawing her lover's portrait, and passing it off on her companion as the<br />
picture of the god of love: her friend has found her out; and<br />
ingeniously exposed her evasion, by delineating her in the character of<br />
_Kama-deva's_ bride. The lady that is pictured is very handsome. Some<br />
young female may be supposed to have spoken, indifferent to life,<br />
because uncertain of her affection being returned. The delicate maid<br />
entrusts her companion with the sorrows of her breast: the tattling<br />
parrot or imitative starling repeats her words, and they find an<br />
hospitable welcome in the ears of the fortunate. The companion, laughing<br />
loudly, observes, "You may as well drop these evasive interpretations;<br />
why not say at once, "the damsel doubts my returning her passion." Who<br />
but yourself could have been delineated as the god of the flowery bow?".<br />
The friend claps his hands and laughs. His obstreperous mirth frightens<br />
63
the bird away. She perches on the plantain bower. They follow her there.<br />
Vasantaka finds a picture and shows it to the king, who gives him a<br />
golden bracelet. Looking at it, the king dwells upon the beauties of the<br />
damsel.<br />
Susangata and Sagarika hide themselves behind the plantain trees and<br />
overhear the conversation between the king and his companion. Susangata<br />
remarks, "You are in luck, girl; your lover is dwelling upon your<br />
praises. The bird, as I told you, has repeated our conversation."<br />
Sagarika thinks to herself, "What will he reply? I hang between life and<br />
death." The king remarks farther to his companion, "My sight insatiate<br />
rests upon her graceful limbs and slender waist. I cannot deny that she<br />
has flatteringly delineated my likeness, nor doubt her sentiments--for<br />
observe the traces of the tear that has fallen upon her work, like the<br />
moist dew that starts from every pore of my frame." Sagarika says to<br />
herself, "Heart, be of good cheer! your passion is directed to a<br />
corresponding object." Susangata now comes forward, so as to be seen by<br />
Vasantaka. At this the king, on the advice of his companion, covers the<br />
picture with his mantle. Susangata says, "I am acquainted with the<br />
secret of the picture and some other matters of which I shall apprise<br />
her Majesty." The king takes off his bracelet and other ornaments and<br />
offers them to her with the object of bribing her to be silent. She<br />
replies, "Your Majesty is bountiful. You need not fear me. I was but in<br />
jest, and do not want these jewels. The truth is, my dear friend,<br />
Sagarika is very angry with me for drawing her picture, and I shall be<br />
much obliged to your Majesty to intercede for me and appease her<br />
resentment." The king springs up and exclaims, "Where is she? Lead me to<br />
her."<br />
Then all advance to Sagarika. She thinks, "He is here--I tremble at his<br />
sight. I can neither stand nor move--what shall I do?" Vasantaka, seeing<br />
her, exclaims, "A most surprising damsel, truly; such another is not to<br />
be found in this world. I am confident that when she was created,<br />
_Brahma_ was astonished at his own performance." The king is struck with<br />
her and observes, "such are my impressions. The four mouths of _Brahma_<br />
must at once have exclaimed in concert, bravo, bravo! when the deity<br />
beheld these eyes more beauteous than the leaves of his own lotus; and<br />
his head must have shaken with wonder, as he contemplated her<br />
loveliness, the ornament of all the world." Sagarika prepares to go away<br />
when the king addresses her thus, "You turn your eyes upon your friend<br />
in anger, lovely maid; yet such is their native tenderness that they<br />
cannot assume a harsh expression. Look thus, but do not leave us, for<br />
your departure hence will alone give me pain." Susangata now advises the<br />
king to take Sagarika by the hand and pacify her. The king approves the<br />
advice and acts up to it. Vasantaka congratulates the king on his<br />
unprecedented fortune.<br />
The king replies, "You say rightly--she is the very deity Lakshmi<br />
herself. Her hand is the new shoot of the _Parijata_ tree, else whence<br />
distil these dewdrops of ambrosia?" Susangata remarks, "It is not<br />
possible, my dear friend, you can remain inexorable whilst honoured thus<br />
64
with his Majesty's hand."<br />
Sagarika frowns on her friend and asks her to forbear. At this time,<br />
Vasantaka, in testiness of temper, raises a false alarm by proclaiming<br />
that the queen is approaching. The king lets go Sagarika's hand in<br />
alarm. Sagarika and her companion go off hastily behind the _tamala_<br />
tree.<br />
After a short time, the queen approaches the king. By order of the king,<br />
Vasantaka hides the picture quickly under his arm. The king proposes to<br />
visit, in the company of the queen, the Jasmine budded. The queen<br />
declines. Vasantaka takes it as an acknowledgment of defeat on her part<br />
and cries out Huzza! He waves his hand and dances; the picture falls.<br />
Kanchanmala, an attendant of the queen, picks up the picture and shows<br />
it to her mistress. The queen, whose jealousy is excited by the<br />
discovery of the picture, demands an explanation from the king.<br />
Vasantaka volunteers to offer the explanation thus:--"I was observing,<br />
madam, that it would be very difficult to hit my friend's likeness, on<br />
which his Majesty was pleased to give me this specimen of his skill."<br />
The king confirms the explanation. The queen observes, "And the female<br />
standing near you--I suppose this is a specimen of Vasantaka's skill."<br />
The king replies, "What should you suspect? That is a mere fancy<br />
portrait, the original was never seen before." Vasantaka supports the<br />
king thus, "I will swear to this, by my Brahmanical thread, that the<br />
original was never seen before by either of us." Not satisfied with the<br />
explanation, the queen remarks, "My lord, excuse me. Looking at the<br />
picture has given me a slight headache. I leave you to your amusements."<br />
The king observes, "What can I say to you, dearest? I really am at a<br />
loss. If I ask you to forgive me, that is unnecessary, if you are not<br />
offended; and how can I promise to do so no more, when I have committed<br />
no fault, although you will not believe my assertions?" The queen,<br />
detaching herself gently and with politeness, takes leave and goes away<br />
with her attendant. Vasantaka remarks, "Your Majesty has had a lucky<br />
escape. The queen's anger has dispersed like summer clouds." The king<br />
observes. "Away, blockhead, we have no occasion to rejoice; could you<br />
not discover the queen's anger through her unsuccessful attempts to<br />
disguise it? Her face was clouded with a passing frown. As she hung down<br />
her head, she looked on me with an affected smile. She gave utterance to<br />
no angry words, it is true, and the swelling eye glowed not with<br />
rage--but a starting tear was with difficulty repressed; and although<br />
she treated me with politeness, struggling indignation lurked in every<br />
gesture. We must endeavour to pacify her."<br />
To insure the vigilance of Kanchanmala, the queen gives her some of her<br />
own clothes and ornaments. With these it is plotted to equip Sagarika as<br />
the queen. A stolen interview between the king and Sagarika, thus<br />
disguised, is arranged to take place at the _Madhava_ bower about<br />
sunset. The queen gets scent of the matter and forestalls Sagarika by<br />
meeting the king at the appointed time and place. The king, mistaking<br />
her for Sagarika, thus speaks his honest self! "My beloved Sagarika, thy<br />
65
countenance is radiant as the moon, thy eyes are two lotus buds, thy<br />
hand is the full blown flower, and thy arms, its graceful filaments.<br />
Come thou, whose form is the shrine of ecstasy, come to my arms."<br />
The queen throws off her veil and says:--"Believe me still Sagarika, my<br />
good lord; your heart is so fascinated by her, you fancy you behold<br />
Sagarika in everything." The king replies, "forgive me, dearest." The<br />
queen remarks, "Address not this to me, my lord--the epithet is<br />
another's property." The king falls at her feet. The queen observes,<br />
"Rise, my lord, rise! that wife must be unreasonable indeed, who, with<br />
such evidence of her lord's affection, can presume to be offended. Be<br />
happy, I take my leave." She now goes away.<br />
Sagarika, dressed as the queen, goes some way to meet the king when she<br />
thinks of putting an end at once to her sufferings and her life and<br />
fastens the noose round her neck with the fibres of the _Madhavi_. The<br />
king, who is seeking for the queen in hopes to pacify her anger,<br />
discovers Sagarika on the way and mistakes her for the queen. He rushes<br />
to her and tears off the tendril. He soon discovers his mistake,<br />
embraces her and observes, "When the bosom of my queen swells with<br />
sighs, I express concern; when she is sullen, I soothe her; when her<br />
brows are bent, and her face is distorted with anger, I fall prostrate<br />
at her feet. These marks of respect are due to her exalted position; but<br />
the regard that springs from vehement affection, that is yours alone."<br />
At this time, the queen, who has overheard the speech, comes forward and<br />
says, "I believe you, my lord, I believe you." The king explains his<br />
conduct thus:--"Why, then, you need not be offended. Cannot you perceive<br />
that I have been attracted hither, and misled by the resemblance of your<br />
dress and person? Be composed, I beg you." He falls at her feet. She<br />
observes, "Rise, rise, let not my exalted station put you to such<br />
unnecessary inconvenience."<br />
Vasantaka takes up the noose, shows it to the queen and explains his<br />
conduct thus, "It is very true, madam, I assure you, that, deceived by<br />
the belief that you were attempting to destroy yourself, I brought my<br />
friend to this spot, to preserve, as I thought, your life." By order of<br />
the queen, Kanchanmala puts the noose over his neck, beats him and<br />
carries him off an unfortunate captive. The king thinks, "What an<br />
unlucky business this is! What is to be done? How shall I dissipate the<br />
rage that clouds the smiling countenance of the queen! How rescue<br />
Sagarika from the dread of her resentment, or liberate my friend<br />
Basantaka? I am quite bewildered with these events, and can no longer<br />
command my ideas. I will go in, and endeavour to pacify the queen." The<br />
queen regales Vasantaka with cakes from her own fair hands, presents him<br />
with a dress and restores him to liberty. Susangata prays him to accept<br />
a diamond necklace which Sagarika has left with her for presentation to<br />
him. He declines the offer. Looking at it attentively he wonders where<br />
she could have procured such a valuable necklace. They both go to the<br />
king who has gone from the queen's apartments to the crystal alcove and<br />
is lamenting thus:--"Deceitful vows, tender speeches, plausible excuses<br />
66
and prostrate supplications had less effect upon the queen's anger than<br />
her own teaks; like water upon the fire they quenched the blaze of her<br />
indignation. I am now only anxious for Sagarika. Her form, as delicate<br />
as the petal of the lotus, dissolving in the breath of inexperienced<br />
passion, has found a passage through the channels by which love<br />
penetrates, and is lodged deep in my heart. The friend to whom I could<br />
confide my secret sorrows is the prisoner of the queen." Vasantaka now<br />
informs the king that he has been restored to liberty. Asked about<br />
Sagarika he hangs down his head and declares that he cannot utter such<br />
unpleasant tidings. The king infers that Sagarika is no more and faints.<br />
The friend says, "my friend, revive--revive! I was about to tell you,<br />
the queen has sent her to Ougein--this I called unpleasant tidings,<br />
Susangata told me so,--and what is more, she gave me this necklace to<br />
bring to your Majesty." Vasantaka gives the king the necklace which he<br />
applies to his heart to alleviate his despair. By command, the courtier<br />
applies the ornament round the neck of the king. At this time,<br />
Vijayavarman, the nephew of Rumanwat the general of the state, arrives<br />
to announce:--"Glory to your Majesty! your Majesty's fortune is<br />
propitious in the triumphs of Rumanwat. By your Majesty's auspices the<br />
_Kosalas_ are subdued. On receiving your Majesty's commands, my uncle<br />
soon collected a mighty army of foot, and horse, and elephants, and<br />
marching against the king of Kosala, surrounded him in a strong position<br />
in the Vindhya mountains. Impatient of the blockade, the _Kosala_<br />
monarch prepared his troops for an engagement. Issuing from the heights,<br />
the enemy's forces came down upon us in great numbers, and the points of<br />
the horizon were crowded with the array of mighty elephants, like<br />
another chain of mountains: they bore down our infantry beneath their<br />
ponderous masses: those who escaped the shock were transpierced by<br />
innumerable arrows and the enemy flattered himself he had for once<br />
disappointed our commander's hopes. Fires flashed from the blows of<br />
contending heroes, helmets and heads were cloven in twain--the broken<br />
armour and scattered weapons were carried away in torrents of blood, and<br />
the defiance of the king of _Kosala_, in the van of his army, was heard<br />
by our warriors; when our chief alone confronted him, and slew the<br />
monarch on his furious elephant with countless shafts. All honour to our<br />
gallant foe, the king of _Kosala_; for glorious is the warrior's death<br />
when his enemies applaud his prowess. Rumanwat then appointed my elder<br />
brother, Sanjayavarman, to govern the country of _Kosala_, and making<br />
slow marches in consequence of the number of his wounded, returned to<br />
the capital. He is now arrived." The king applauds his general and<br />
commands the distribution of the treasures of his favour.<br />
Samvarasiddhi, a magician from Ougein, now interviews the king. The<br />
magician, waving a bunch of peacock's feathers, observes, "Reverence to<br />
Indra, who lends our art his name. What are your Majesty's commands?<br />
Would you see the moon brought down upon earth, a mountain in mid air, a<br />
fire in the ocean, or night at noon? I will produce them--Command. What<br />
need of many words? By the force of my master's spells, I will place<br />
before your eyes the person whom in your heart you are most anxious to<br />
behold."<br />
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The king not wishing to see the performance alone, summons the queen who<br />
arrives soon. The king leads her to a seat, sits beside her and commands<br />
the magician to display his power.<br />
The magician waves his plumes and exhibits most wonderful scenes.<br />
_Brahma_ appears throned upon the lotus; _Sankara_ appears with the<br />
crescent moon, his glittering crest; _Hari_, the destroyer of the demon<br />
race, in whose four hands the bow, the sword, the mace and the shell are<br />
borne, is observable. _Indra_, the king of _Swarga_, is seen mounted on<br />
his stately elephant. Around them countless spirits dance merrily in mid<br />
air, sporting with the lovely nymphs of heaven, whose anklets ring<br />
responsive to the measure. The king and queen look up and rise from<br />
their seats. At this time, a female attendant appears to announce;--"So<br />
please your Majesty, the minister Yaugandharayana begs to inform you,<br />
that Vikrambahu, the king of Ceylon, has sent, along with your own<br />
messenger who returns, the councillor Vasubhuti; be pleased to receive<br />
him as the season is auspicious. The minister will also wait upon you as<br />
soon as he is at leisure." The queen observes, "Suspend this spectacle,<br />
my lord. Vasubhuti is a man of elevated rank; he is also of the family<br />
of my maternal uncle, and should not be suffered to wait; let us first<br />
see him." The king orders the suspension of the show, the magician<br />
retires promising to exhibit yet some sights.<br />
Vasubhuti, after the customary exchange of courtesies, thus relates his<br />
story:--"In consequence of the prophesy of a seer, that whoever should<br />
wed Ratnavali, my master's daughter, should become the emperor in the<br />
world, your Majesty's minister solicited her for your bride; unwilling,<br />
however, to be instrumental in the uneasiness of Vasavadatta, the king<br />
of Simhala declined compliance with his suit. My master, understanding<br />
at last that the queen was deceased, consented to give his daughter to<br />
you. We were deputed to conduct her hither, when alas, our vessel was<br />
wrecked." The envoy, overpowered by sorrows, is unable to continue the<br />
story and weeps. The queen exclaims, "Alas, unhappy that I am! Loved<br />
sister Ratnavali, where art thou? Near me and reply."<br />
The king consoles the queen thus:--<br />
"The fate that causes, may remove our sorrows."<br />
A cry is now heard from behind that the inner apartments are on fire.<br />
The king starts up wildly and exclaims, "Vasavadatta burnt to death! my<br />
queen, my love!"<br />
The queen exclaims, "What extravagance is this--behold me at your side.<br />
But ah! help, help, my lord. I think not of myself but poor Sagarika.<br />
She is in bonds; my cruelty has kept her captive--and she will be lost<br />
without some aid--haste, haste and save her!" The king flies to her<br />
rescue, precipitates himself into the flames and takes her in his arms.<br />
He pauses--looks around--closes his eyes, and reopens them. The flames<br />
disappear. The palace stands unharmed. The king observes, "This must<br />
have been a dream, or is it magic?" Vasantaka replies, "The latter, no<br />
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doubt; did not that conjuring son of a slave say, he had still something<br />
for your Majesty to see?"<br />
The king says to the queen,<br />
"Here, madam, is Sagarika rescued in obedience to your commands." The<br />
queen smiling replies, "I am sensible of your obedience, my lord." She<br />
now informs all present, "Yaugandharayana presented her to me, and told<br />
me she had been rescued from the sea: it was hence we designated her<br />
Sagarika or the ocean Maid." The likeness--the necklace--the recovery of<br />
the damsel from the sea--leave no doubt in the mind of Vasubhuti that<br />
this is the daughter of the king of Simhala, Ratnavali. Vasubhuti<br />
advances to her who looks at him. They recognize each other and both<br />
faint. After some time they recover. As Ratnavali goes to embrace the<br />
queen at her invitation, she stumbles. At the request of the queen who<br />
blushes for her cruelty, the king takes the chains off Ratnavali's feet.<br />
Yaugandharayana now explains his conduct thus, "It was formerly<br />
announced to us by a holy seer, that the husband of the princess of<br />
Simhala should become the emperor of the world. We therefore earnestly<br />
applied to her father to give her hand to our sovereign; but unwilling<br />
to be cause of uneasiness to the queen, the monarch of Simhala declined<br />
compliance with our request: we therefore raised a report that<br />
Vasavadatta had perished by a fire at Lavanaka, and Babhravya was<br />
despatched with the news to the court of Simhala. Vikrambahu then<br />
consented to our proposal and sent his daughter on board a ship<br />
accompanied by Vasubhuti and Babhravya. The ship was wrecked. The<br />
princess was rescued from the sea by a merchant who brought her to me. I<br />
placed her with the queen in a very unsuitable station as I expected you<br />
would see her in the inner apartments, and take pleasure in her sight. I<br />
had some concern in the appearance of the magician who had conjured up a<br />
vision of the gods and a conflagration, as no other means remained of<br />
restoring the damsel to your presence and creating an opportunity for<br />
Vasubhuti to see and recognise the princess." The queen now puts on<br />
Ratnavali her own jewels, then takes her by the hand and presents her to<br />
the king. Ratnavali bows to the queen who embraces her. The king<br />
observes, "My cares are all rewarded. Nothing more is necessary,<br />
Vikrambahu is my kinsman, Sagarika, the essence of the world, the source<br />
of universal victory, is mine, and Vasavadatta rejoices to obtain a<br />
sister. The _Kosalas_ are subdued: what other object does the world<br />
present for which I could entertain a wish? This be alone my prayer; may<br />
Indra with seasonable showers render the earth bountiful of grain; may<br />
the presiding Brahmans secure the favour of the gods by acceptable<br />
sacrifices; may the association of the pious confer delight until the<br />
end of time, and may the appalling blasphemies of the profane be<br />
silenced for ever."<br />
APPENDIX.<br />
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<strong>THE</strong> VALUE OF DRAMA.<br />
The purposes for which an ancient language may be studied are its<br />
philology and its literature, or the arts and sciences, the notions and<br />
manners, the history and beliefs of the people by whom it was spoken.<br />
Particular branches may be preferably cultivated for the understanding<br />
of each of these subjects, but there is no one species which will be<br />
found to embrace so many purposes as the dramatic. The dialogue varies<br />
from simple to elaborate, from the conversation of ordinary life to the<br />
highest refinements of poetical taste. The illustrations are drawn from<br />
every known product of art, as well as every observable phenomenon of<br />
nature. The manners and feelings of the people are delineated, living<br />
and breathing before us, and history and religion furnish the most<br />
important and interesting topics to the bard. Wherever, therefore, there<br />
exists a dramatic literature, it must be pre-eminently entitled to the<br />
attention of the philosopher as well as the philologist, of the man of<br />
general literary tastes as well as the professional scholar.<br />
<strong>THE</strong> ORIGIN OF DRAMA.<br />
Among the various sorts of literary composition the drama holds the most<br />
important position; for it is a picture of real life, and, as such, of<br />
national interest. It consists of two principal species, tragedy and<br />
comedy; the minor species are tragi-comedy, farce, burlesque and<br />
melo-drama. Both tragedy and comedy attained their perfection in Greece<br />
long before the Christian era. There it originated in the worship of<br />
Bacchus.<br />
The English drama took its rise from the mysteries or sacred plays by<br />
the medium of which the clergy in the Middle Ages endeavoured to impart<br />
a knowledge of the Christian religion.<br />
The Sanskrit drama is said to have been invented by the sage Bharata,<br />
who lived at a very remote period of Indian history and was the author<br />
of a system of music. The earliest references to the acted drama are to<br />
be found in the _Mahabhashya_, which mentions representations of the<br />
_Kansabadha_ and the _Balibadha_, episodes in the history of Krishna.<br />
Indian tradition describes Bharat as having caused to be acted before<br />
the gods a play representing the _Svayamvara_ of Lakshmi.<br />
Tradition further makes Krishna and his cowherdesses the starting point<br />
of the _Sangita_, a representation consisting of a mixture of song,<br />
music, and dancing. The Gitagovinda is concerned with Krishna, and the<br />
modern _Yatras_ generally represent scenes from the life of that deity.<br />
From all this it seems likely that the Hindu drama was developed in<br />
connection with the cult of Vishnu-Krishna; and that the earliest acted<br />
representations were, therefore, like the mysteries of the Christian<br />
Middle Ages, a kind of religious plays, in which scenes from the legends<br />
of the gods were enacted mainly with the aid of songs and dances<br />
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supplemented with prose dialogues improvised by the performers. These<br />
earliest forms of Hindu dramatic literature are represented by those<br />
hymns of the _Rig-Veda_ which contain dialogues such as those of Sarama<br />
and the Panis, Yama and Yami, Pururava and Urvaci.<br />
The words for actor (_nata_) and play (_nataka_) are derived from the<br />
verb _nat_, the Prakrit or vernacular form of the Sanskrit _nrit_, "to<br />
dance." Hence scholars are of opinion that the Sanskrit drama has<br />
developed out of dancing. The representations of dramas of early times<br />
were attended with dancing and gesticulation. There were rude<br />
performances without the contrivances of stage and scenic arrangements,<br />
dancing and music forming a considerable part. The addition of dialogue<br />
was the last step in the development, which was thus much the same in<br />
India and Greece. This primitive stage is represented by the Bengal<br />
_Yaeras_ and the Gitagovinda. These form the transition to the fully<br />
developed Sanskrit play in which lyrics and dialogue are blended.<br />
Sakuntala belongs to the mytho-pastoral class of Sanskrit plays;<br />
Probodhchandraudya, to the metaphysical. The Hindu theatre affords<br />
examples of the drama of domestic, as well as of heroic life; of<br />
original invention as well as of legendary tradition.<br />
The Hindus did not borrow their dramatic compositions from foreigners.<br />
The nations of Europe possessed no dramatic literature before the<br />
fourteenth or fifteenth century, at which period the Hindu drama had<br />
passed into its decline. Mohammedan literature has ever been a stranger<br />
to theatrical writings, and the Mussalman conquerors of India could not<br />
have communicated what they never possessed. There is no record that<br />
theatrical entertainments were ever naturalised amongst the ancient<br />
Persians, Arabs, or Egyptians. With the exception of a few features in<br />
common with the Greek and the Chinese dramas, which could not fail to<br />
occur independently, the Hindu dramas present characteristic features in<br />
conduct and construction which strongly evidence both original design<br />
and national development.<br />
Angustus William Von Schlegel observes:--<br />
"Among the Indians, the people from whom perhaps all the cultivation of<br />
the human race has been derived, plays were known long before they could<br />
have experienced any foreign influence."<br />
<strong>THE</strong> CHARACTER OF <strong>THE</strong> <strong>HINDU</strong> DRAMA.<br />
Sanskrit plays are full of lyrical passages describing scenes or persons<br />
presented to view, or containing reflections suggested by the incidents<br />
that occur. They usually consist of four-line stanzas. The prose of the<br />
dialogue in the plays is often very commonplace, serving only as an<br />
introduction to the lofty sentiment of the poetry that follows.<br />
The Sanskrit drama is a mixed composition in which joy is mingled with<br />
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sorrow, in which the jester usually plays a prominent part, while the<br />
hero and heroine are often in the depths of despair. But it never has a<br />
sad ending. The emotions of terror, grief, or pity, with which the<br />
audience are inspired, are therefore always tranquillised by the happy<br />
termination of the story. Nor may any deeply tragic incident take place<br />
in the course of the play; for death is never allowed to be represented<br />
on the stage. Indeed, nothing considered indecorous, whether of a<br />
serious or comic character, is allowed to be enacted in the sight or<br />
hearing of the spectators, such as the utterance of a curse,<br />
degradation, banishment, national calamity, biting, scratching, kissing,<br />
eating, or sleeping.<br />
Love, according to Hindu notions, is the subject of most of their<br />
dramas. The hero, who is generally a king, and already the husband of a<br />
wife or wives, is suddenly smitten with the charms of a lovely woman,<br />
sometimes a nymph, or, as in the case of Sakuntala, the daughter of a<br />
nymph by a mortal father. The heroine is required to be equally<br />
impressible, and the first tender glance from the hero's eye reaches her<br />
heart. With true feminine delicacy, however, she locks the secret of her<br />
passion in her own breast, and by her coyness and reserve keeps her<br />
lover for a long period in the agonies of suspense. The hero, being<br />
reduced to a proper state of desperation, is harassed by other<br />
difficulties. Either the celestial nature of the nymph is in the way of<br />
their union, or he doubts the legality of the match, or he fears his own<br />
unworthiness, or he is hampered by the angry jealousy of a previous<br />
wife. In short, doubts, obstacles and delays make great havoc of both<br />
hero and heroine. They give way to melancholy, indulge in amorous<br />
rhapsodies, and become very emaciated. So far the story is decidedly<br />
dull, and its pathos, notwithstanding the occasional grandeur and beauty<br />
of imagery, often verges on the ridiculous. But, by way of relief, an<br />
element of life is generally introduced in the character of the<br />
Vidushaka, or Jester, who is the constant companion of the hero; and in<br />
the young maidens, who are confidential friends of the heroine, and soon<br />
become possessed of her secret. By a curious regulation, the jester is<br />
always a Brahman, and, therefore, of a caste superior to the king<br />
himself; yet his business is to excite mirth by being ridiculous in<br />
person, age, and attire. He is represented as grey-haired, hump-backed,<br />
lame and hideously ugly. In fact, he is a species of buffoon, who is<br />
allowed full liberty of speech, being himself a universal butt. His<br />
attempts at wit, which are rarely very successful, and his allusions to<br />
the pleasures of the table, of which he is a confessed votary, are<br />
absurdly contrasted with the sententious solemnity of the despairing<br />
hero, crossed in the prosecution of his love-suit. His clumsy<br />
interference with the intrigues of his friend, only serves to augment<br />
his difficulties, and occasions many an awkward dilemma. On the other<br />
hand, the shrewdness of the heroine's confidantes never seem to fail<br />
them under the most trying circumstances; while their sly jokes and<br />
innuendos, their love of fun, their girlish sympathy with the progress<br />
of the love-affair, their warm affection for their friend, heighten the<br />
interest of the plot, and contribute not a little to vary its monotony.<br />
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Indeed, if a calamitous conclusion be necessary to constitute a tragedy,<br />
the Hindu dramas are never tragedies. They are mixed compositions, in<br />
which joy and sorrow, happiness and misery, are woven in a mingled<br />
web,--tragi-comic representations, in which good and evil, right and<br />
wrong, truth and falsehood, are allowed to mingle in confusion during<br />
the first acts of the drama. But, in the last act, harmony is always<br />
restored, order succeeds to disorder, tranquillity to agitation; and the<br />
mind of the spectator, no longer perplexed by the apparent ascendancy of<br />
evil, is soothed, and purified, and made to acquiesce in the moral<br />
lesson deducible from the plot.<br />
In comparison with the Greek and the modern drama, Nature occupies a<br />
much more important place in Sanskrit plays. The characters are<br />
surrounded by Nature, with which they are in constant communion. The<br />
mango and other trees, creepers, lotuses, and pale-red trumpet-flowers,<br />
gazelles, flamingoes, bright-hued parrots, and Indian cuckoos, in the<br />
midst of which they move, are often addressed by them and form an<br />
essential part of their lives. Hence the influence of Nature on the<br />
minds of lovers is much dwelt on. Prominent everywhere in classical<br />
Sanskrit poetry, these elements of Nature luxuriate most of all in the<br />
drama.<br />
The dramas of Bhavabhuti except Malati-Madhava, and the whole herd of<br />
the later dramatic authors, relate to the heroic traditions of the<br />
Ramayana and the Mahabharata, or else to the history of Krishna; and the<br />
later the pieces are, the more do they resemble the so-called<br />
'mysteries' of the middle ages. The comedies, which, together with a<br />
few other pieces, move in the sphere of civil life, form, of course, an<br />
exception to this. A peculiar class of dramas are the philosophical<br />
ones, in which abstractions and systems appear as the _dramatis<br />
personae_. One very special peculiarity of the Hindu drama is that women,<br />
and persons of inferior rank, station, or caste are introduced as<br />
speaking the _Prakrit_ or vulgarised Sanskrit, while the language of the<br />
higher and more educated classes is the classical Sanskrit of the<br />
present type.<br />
<strong>THE</strong> CONSTRUCTION OF <strong>THE</strong> SANSKRIT DRAMA.<br />
According to the code of criticism laid down in works on Sanskrit drama,<br />
it should deal principally either with the sentiment of love, or the<br />
heroic sentiment; the other sentiments should have a subsidiary<br />
position. There should be four or five principal characters, and the<br />
number of acts should vary from five to ten.<br />
There are several species of the drama,--ten principal, and eighteen<br />
minor. Of these none has a tragic end.<br />
Every drama opens with a prologue or, to speak more correctly, an<br />
introduction designed to prepare the way for the entrance of the<br />
dramatis personae. The prologue commences with a prayer or benediction<br />
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(_Nandi_) invoking the national deity in favour of the audience.<br />
Then generally follows a dialogue between the stage-manager and one or<br />
two of the actors, which refers to the play and its author, mentions<br />
past events and present circumstances elucidating the plot, and<br />
invariably ends by adroitly introducing one of the dramatic personages,<br />
and the real performance begins.<br />
The play thus opened, is carried forward in scenes and acts; each scene<br />
being marked by the entrance of one character and the exit of another.<br />
The stage is never left vacant till the end of an act, nor does any<br />
change of locality take place till then. The commencement of a new act<br />
is often marked, by an introductory monologue or dialogue spoken by one<br />
or more of the _dramatis personae_, and is called _Viskambhaka_ or<br />
_Praveshaka_, which alludes to events supposed to have occurred in the<br />
interval, and the audience are prepared for national plenty and<br />
prosperity, addressed by one of the principal personages of the drama,<br />
to the favourite deity. The development of the plot is brought about<br />
through five divisions called the five _sandhis_. A _sandhi_ is a<br />
combination of incidents whereby the object is attained.<br />
<strong>THE</strong> MANNER OF PERFORMANCE.<br />
There were no special theatres in the Hindu Middle Ages, and plays seem<br />
to have been performed in the concert-room (_Sangita-Cala_) of royal<br />
palaces. A curtain, divided in the middle, was a necessary part of the<br />
stage arrangement; it did not, however, separate the audience from the<br />
stage, as in the Roman theatre, but formed the back-ground of the stage.<br />
Behind the curtain was the tiring-room (_nepathya_), whence the actors<br />
came on the stage. When they were intended to enter hurriedly, they<br />
were directed to do so "with a toss of the curtain." The stage scenery<br />
and decorations were of a very simple order, much being left to the<br />
imagination of the spectator, as in the Shakespearian drama. Weapons,<br />
seats, thrones, and chariots appeared on the stage; but it is highly<br />
improbable that the latter were drawn by the living animals supposed to<br />
be attached to them. There may have been some kind of aerial contrivance<br />
to represent celestial chariots.<br />
KALIDASA.<br />
Kalidasa is the author of Sakuntala, Vikramorvasi and Malavikagnimitra.<br />
He has been designated the Indian Shakespeare. He is reputed to have<br />
been one of the nine ornaments (or "gems") of the Court of Vikramaditya,<br />
king of Ujayin, whose Era, called _Samvat_, begins in 56 B.C. Stories<br />
extant about him describe him to be the veriest fool. He rose to be a<br />
great poet through the favour of the Goddess of Learning. Those stories<br />
embody the public opinion that except through Divine Grace or the<br />
Inspiration of the Muse a man cannot rise to such eminence by learning<br />
and culture alone. His native place is Kashmir or its neighbourhood. He<br />
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had no doubt suffered from the pangs of poverty and neglect and<br />
travelled a great deal. He professed the _Saiva_ form of worship.<br />
His chief poems are the Raghuvansam, the Kumarasambhavam, the Meghadutam<br />
and the Ritusanharam. It is believed that he wrote a treatise on<br />
Astronomy and one on Sanskrit Prosody. His genius was of a versatile<br />
nature. He was a poet, a dramatist and an astronomer. His works bespeak<br />
the superior order of his scholarship--his acquaintance with the<br />
important systems of philosophy, the Upanishads and the Puranas;--his<br />
close observation of society and its intricate problems;--his delicate<br />
appreciation of the most refined feelings, his familiarity with the<br />
conflicting sentiments and emotions of the human heart,--and his keen<br />
perception of and deep sympathy with the beauties of Nature. His<br />
imagination was of a very high order and of a constructive nature. His<br />
power of depicting all shades of character,--high and low,--from the<br />
king to the common fisherman, is astonishing. His similes are so very<br />
apt that they touch directly the heart and at once enlist the sympathy<br />
of the reader. He is called the poet of the sentiment of Love as this<br />
sentiment was his _forte_. His diction is chaste and free from<br />
extravagance and is marked by that felicity of expression, spontaneity<br />
and melody which have earned for him the epithet--"the favoured child of<br />
the Muse."<br />
SAKUNTALA.<br />
Of all Sanskrit dramas, Sakuntala has acquired the greatest celebrity.<br />
It is not in India alone that it is known and admired. Its excellence<br />
and beauty are acknowledged by learned men in every country of the<br />
civilised world. It was the publication of a translation of this play by<br />
Sir William Jones, which Max Muller thinks "may fairly be considered as<br />
the starting point of Sanskrit Philology." "The first appearance of<br />
this beautiful specimen of dramatic art," he continues, "created, at<br />
the time, a sensation throughout Europe, and the most rapturous praise<br />
was bestowed upon it by men of high authority in matters of taste."<br />
<strong>THE</strong> MORAL OF <strong>THE</strong> PLAY.<br />
The recovery of the ring, like its loss, was a matter of pure accident<br />
and points to the moral that the joys and sorrows of human beings depend<br />
in most cases upon circumstances which lie beyond their control.<br />
MALAVIKAGNIMITRA.<br />
The play was not written at a time when Buddhism was despised, and had<br />
already been driven out of India, but when it was still regarded with<br />
favour, and was looked up to with reverence.<br />
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VIKRAMORVASI.<br />
The root of all the stories of Pururavas and Urvasi were short<br />
proverbial expressions, of which ancient dialects are so fond.<br />
Thus--'Urvasi loves Pururavas,' meant 'the sun rises'; 'Urvasi sees<br />
Pururavas naked,' meant 'the dawn is gone'; 'Urvasi finds Pururavas<br />
again,' meant 'the sun is setting.'<br />
The same ideas pervade the mythological language of Greece.<br />
BHAVABHUTI.<br />
The name of Bhavabhuti stands high in Sanskrit literature. It is perhaps<br />
the highest in eloquence of expression and sublimity of imagination.<br />
Throughout the whole range of Sanskrit literature--from the simple<br />
lessons of Hitopadesha to the most elaborate polish of Naishadha--from<br />
the terse vigour of Sankaracharjya to the studied majesty of Magha--from<br />
the harmonious grace of Kalidasa to the ornate picturesqueness of<br />
Kadambari, there is probably no writer who can come up to Bhavabhuti in<br />
his wonderful command of Sanskrit language and surprising fluency and<br />
elevation of diction.<br />
The introductions to the Viracharita and the Malati-Madhava tell us that<br />
he belonged to Padmapura in Vidarva (Berar) and was the grandson of<br />
Gopal Bhatta and son of Nilkantha and Jatukarni. He was descended from a<br />
family of Brahmans surnamed Udambaras.<br />
His wonderful memory and vast erudition soon procured for him the title<br />
of Srikantha or Minerva-throated. He soon removed to the court of<br />
Ujjayini, where before the celebrated Mahakala all his plays were acted.<br />
He wrote the Viracharita, the Uttarramacharita and the Malati-Madhava.<br />
According to Rajatarangini, Bhavabhuti was patronized by Yasovarma, king<br />
of Kanoja. This Yasovarma was subdued by Lalitaditya, king of Kasmira,<br />
who acquired by his conquests a paramount supremacy over a large part of<br />
India.<br />
VIRA CHARITA.<br />
The play throws some light on the condition of women. The princesses of<br />
Videha publicly go to the hermitage of Vishvamitra. Sita comes out with<br />
her attendants to dissuade Rama from meeting Jamadagnya and makes a<br />
public entry with him on his return to Ayodhya. The old queens come out<br />
to meet their children. Yet it must not be supposed that Hindu women<br />
enjoyed the same freedom of intercourse as their European sisters. As<br />
now, there used to be separate apartments for women. As now, they were<br />
not admitted to an equality with men. The princesses of Videha do not<br />
carry on conversation with the princes of Ajodhya. Sita does not come<br />
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out to pay her respects to the seniors, but her salute is announced from<br />
within. There is now more seclusion of Hindu women as the result of the<br />
influence of past Mahammedan rule. The influence of British rule is now<br />
promoting the cause of female liberty.<br />
UTTARRAMACHARITA.<br />
The mutual sorrows of Rama and Sita in their state of separation are<br />
pleasingly and tenderly expressed. The meeting of the father and his<br />
sons may be compared advantageously with similar scenes with which the<br />
fictions of Europe, both poetical and dramatic, abound. The true spirit<br />
of chivalry pervades the encounter of the two young princes with their<br />
father. Some brilliant thoughts occur, the justice and beauty of which<br />
are not surpassed in any literature. The comparison of Chandraketu to a<br />
lion's cub turning to brave the thunderbolt is one of these; and another<br />
is the illustration of the effects of education upon minds possessed or<br />
destitute of natural gifts.<br />
MALATI-MADHAVA.<br />
The marriage dress of high-born females described in the sixth act is<br />
well worthy of our observation. It consisted of a corset of white silk<br />
and a fine red upper garment, besides the usual lower dress, ornaments,<br />
and a chaplet of flowers. It has received several modifications since<br />
the days of Bhavabhuti.<br />
The sacrifice of good-looking girls, alluded to in the fifth act, was<br />
common in his time and other authors allude to it. The seventh story of<br />
Dasakumar Charita is just like it, when a prince rescues a princess from<br />
a similar Sanyasi and afterwards marries her.<br />
The story of "Malati and Madhava" is one of pure invention. The manners<br />
described are purely Hindu without any foreign admixture. The appearance<br />
of women of rank in public, and their exemption from any personal<br />
restraint in their own habitations, are very incompatible with the<br />
presence of Muhammedan rulers. The licensed existence of Buddha<br />
ascetics, their access to the great, and their employment as teachers of<br />
science, are other peculiarities characteristic of an early date; whilst<br />
the worship of Siva in his terrific forms, and the prevalance of the<br />
practices of the Yoga, are indications of a similar tendency.<br />
MUDRA RAKSHASA.<br />
It must be acknowledged, that the political code from which the<br />
stratagems of Chanakya emanate, exhibits a morality not a whit superior<br />
to that of the Italian school; but a remarkable, and in some respects a<br />
redeeming principle, is the inviolable and devoted fidelity which<br />
appears as the uniform characteristic of servants, emissaries, and<br />
friends.<br />
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The play is wholly of a political character, and represents a series of<br />
Machiavellian stratagems, influencing public events of considerable<br />
importance.<br />
The Mudrarakshasa is, in sundry respects, a very unique work in Sanskrit<br />
literature. Its plot is not a pure invention, but on the other hand, it<br />
is not derived from the usual storehouse of legends on which Sanskrit<br />
authors have generally drawn for their materials. It has no female among<br />
its prominent _dramatis personae_, and the business of the play,<br />
accordingly, is diplomacy and politics, to the entire exclusion of love.<br />
There is, in truth, but one female character, with one little child,<br />
introduced into the play, and these are Chandanadasa's wife and son, who<br />
come in at the beginning of the last act. But even their appearance<br />
introduces no passages suggestive of tenderness or the purely domestic<br />
virtues, but only of sacrifice--a stern sense of duty.<br />
In the minor characters we see the principle of faithfulness to one's<br />
lord, adhered to through good report and evil report. In the more<br />
prominent ones, the same principle still prevails, and the course of<br />
conduct to which it leads is certainly quite Machiavellian. And all this<br />
is brought out in a plot put together with singular skill.<br />
In the seventh act we have a remarkable stanza, in which the conduct of<br />
Chandanadasa, in sacrificing his life for his friend Rakshasa, is stated<br />
to have transcended the nobility even of the Buddhas. It seems that<br />
this allusion to Buddhism belongs to a period long prior to the decay<br />
and ultimate disappearance of Buddhism from India. In the time of<br />
Hionen-Tsang--_i.e._ between 629-645 A.D.--it was, however, still far<br />
from being decayed, though it appears to have fallen very far below the<br />
point at which it stood in Fa-Hian's time, to have been equal in power<br />
with Brahminism only where it was supported by powerful kings, and to<br />
have been generally accepted as the prevailing religion of the country<br />
only in Kashmir and the Upper Punjab, in Magadha and in Guzerat. In this<br />
condition of things, it was still quite possible, that one not himself a<br />
Buddhist--and Visakhadatta plainly was not one--should refer to Buddhism<br />
in the complimentary terms we find in the passage under discussion.<br />
The late Mr. Justice Telang observes:--"The policy of Chanakya is not<br />
remarkable for high morality. From the most ordinary deception and<br />
personation, up to forgery and murder, every device is resorted to that<br />
could be of service in the achievement of the end which Chanakya had<br />
determined for himself. There is no lack of highly objectionable and<br />
immoral proceedings. It must be admitted that this indicates a very low<br />
state of public morality, and the formal works on politics which exist<br />
certainly do not disclose anything better. With reference to the<br />
criticisms which have been based on these facts, however, there are one<br />
or two circumstances to be taken into account. In the first place,<br />
although this is no excuse, it may be said to be an extenuation, that<br />
the questionable proceedings referred to are all taken in furtherance of<br />
what is, in itself, a very proper end. Chanakya's ambition is to make<br />
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his protege, Chandragupta firm upon his throne, and to bring back<br />
Rakshasa to the service of the king who properly represented those old<br />
masters of his to whom Rakshasa's loyalty still remained quite firm. If<br />
the end could ever be regarded as justifying the means, it might be so<br />
regarded in this case. And, secondly, it must not be forgotten, that the<br />
games of diplomacy and politics have always been games of more or less<br />
doubtful morality. When we hear of one great politician of modern days<br />
declaring another to be a great statesman, because, as I believe he<br />
expressed it, the latter lied so cleverly, we cannot say that the world<br />
has risen to any very perceptibly higher moral plane in the times of<br />
Metternich and Napoleon, than in those of Chanakya and Rakshasa. Nor are<br />
suppressions of important passages in despatches for the purposes of<br />
publication, or wars undertaken on unjustifiable and really selfish<br />
pretexts, calculated to convince one, that even in Europe in the<br />
nineteenth century, the transaction of political affairs has been purged<br />
of the taint of immorality, however different, and I may even add,<br />
comparatively innocent, may be the outward manifestations of that<br />
taint."<br />
VISAKHADATTA.<br />
Visakhadatta or Visakhadeva is the author of Mudrarakshasa. We learn<br />
from the Introduction to the drama that Visakhadatta was the son of<br />
Prithu and grandson of Vatesvaradatta--a Samanta or subordinate chief<br />
Professor Wilson was inclined to think that Maharaja Prithu might be the<br />
Chouhan Prince Prithu Rai of Ajmir; but he himself pointed out that the<br />
Chouhan Prince was never called Maharaja; and that the name Nateswara<br />
Datta would present a serious difficulty in the way of identifying the<br />
poet's father with the Chouhan Prince Prithu Rai of Ajmir. It will also<br />
appear that the author of the drama lived in a century which is prior to<br />
the age of Prithu Rai of Ajmir by centuries. He was in all probability a<br />
native of Northern India. The grandson of a tributary chief and the son<br />
of a Maharaja he was well-skilled in state-craft and made a special<br />
study of stratagems and crooked policies; in consequence of which the<br />
bent of his mind was mainly directed to business and did not indulge in<br />
sentiments. The effect of it is manifest in his poetry which is<br />
business-like and vigorous, but lacks in sweetness, beauty and the<br />
tender emotions.<br />
YAYATI CHARITA.<br />
The author may possibly be Pratapa Rudra Deva, sovereign of Telingana in<br />
the beginning of the fourteenth century.<br />
DUTANGADA.<br />
It is said to have been written for the yatra of Kumar Pala Deva, by<br />
order of Tribhuvana Pala Deva, by the poet Subhata.<br />
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DHANANJAYA VIJAYA.<br />
It is the composition of Kanchana Acharya, the son of Narayana, a<br />
celebrated teacher of the _yoga_, of the race of Kapi Muni.<br />
MRIGANKALEKHA.<br />
The drama was composed by Viswanath, the son of Trimala Deva, originally<br />
from the banks of the Godaveri, but residing at Benares, where it was<br />
represented at the _yatra_, or festival, of Visweswara, the form under<br />
which Siva is particularly worshipped in that city.<br />
KAUTUKA SERVASWA.<br />
This is a Prahasana or Farce, and is especially a satire upon princes<br />
who addict themselves to idleness and sensuality, and fail to patronize<br />
the Brahmans.<br />
It was composed by a Pandit named Gopinath for representation at the<br />
autumnal festival of the _Durga Puja_.<br />
CHITRA YAJNA.<br />
This heterogeneous composition is the work of a Pandit of Nadiya,<br />
Vaidyanath Vachespati Bhattacharya, and was composed for the festival of<br />
Govinda, by desire of Iswar Chandra, the Raja of Nadiya.<br />
HASYARNAVA.<br />
This comic play is a severe but grossly indelicate satire upon the<br />
profligacy of Brahmans assuming the character of religious mendicants.<br />
It satirizes also the encouragement given to vice by princes, the<br />
inefficacy of ministers, and the ignorance of physicians and<br />
astrologers.<br />
It is the work of a Pandit named Jagaddisa, and was represented at the<br />
vernal festival; but where, or when, it is not known.<br />
RATNAVALI.<br />
Although the personages are derived from Hindu history, they are wholly<br />
of mortal mould, and unconnected with any mystical or mythological<br />
legend; and the incidents are not only the pure inventions of the<br />
dramatist, but they are of an entirely domestic nature.<br />
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It is stated in the prelude to be the composition of the sovereign, Sri<br />
Harsa Deva. A king of this name, and a great patron of learned men,<br />
reigned over Kashmir; he was the reputed author of several works, being,<br />
however, only the patron, the compositions bearing his name being<br />
written by Dhavaka and other authors.<br />
RAJA SEKHAR.<br />
Raja Sekhar is the author of Prachanda Pandava, Biddhasalvanjika, and<br />
Karpura Manjari.<br />
MURARI.<br />
Murari composed Anargha Raghava.<br />
VENISANHARA.<br />
The author is Bhatta Narayana surnamed Mrigaraja or Simha, "the lion."<br />
He is one of the five Brahmins who, with five Kayesthas, came from<br />
Kanouj and settled in Bengal at the invitation of Adisura, the then king<br />
of Bengal.<br />
PROBODHA CHANDRODAYA.<br />
This play was composed by Krishnamisra. It is an allegorical play, the<br />
_dramatis personae_ of which consist entirely of abstract ideas, divided<br />
into two conflicting hosts.<br />
HANUMANANATAKA.<br />
The play is a dramatized version of the story of Rama interspersed with<br />
numerous purely descriptive poetic passages. It consists of fourteen<br />
acts and on account of its great length is also called the Mahanataka,<br />
or the great drama.<br />
Tradition relates that it was composed by Hanuman, the monkey general,<br />
and inscribed on rocks; but, Valmiki, the author of the Ramayana, being<br />
afraid lest it might throw his own poem into the shade, Hanuman allowed<br />
him to cast his verses into the sea. Thence fragments were ultimately<br />
picked up by a merchant, and brought to King Bhoja, who directed the<br />
poet Damodara Misra to put them together, and fill up the lacunae; whence<br />
the present composition originated. Whatever particle of truth there may<br />
be in this story, the "Great Drama" seems certainly to be the production<br />
of different hands.<br />
VASAVADATTA.<br />
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Vasavadatta of Subandhu is a short romance, of which the story is this.<br />
Kandarpaketu, a young and valiant prince, son of Chintamani king of<br />
Kusumapura, saw in a dream a beautiful maiden of whom he became<br />
desperately enamoured. Impressed with the belief, that a person, such as<br />
was seen by him in his dream, had a real existence, he resolves to<br />
travel in search of her, and departs, attended only by his confidant<br />
Makaranda. While reposing under a tree in a forest at the foot of the<br />
Vindhya mountains, where they halted, Makaranda overhears two birds<br />
conversing, and from their discourse he learns that the princess<br />
Vasavadatta, having rejected all the suitors who had been assembled by<br />
the king her father for her to make choice of a husband, had seen<br />
Kandarpaketu in a dream, in which she had even dreamt his name. Her<br />
confidante, Tamalika, sent by her in search of the prince, had arrived<br />
at the same forest, and was discovered there by Makaranda. She delivers<br />
to the prince a letter from the princess, and conducts him to king's<br />
palace. He obtains from the princess the avowal of her love; and her<br />
confidante, Kalavati, reveals to the prince the violence of her passion.<br />
The lovers depart together: but, passing through the forest, he loses<br />
her, in the night. After long and unsuccessful search, in the course of<br />
which he reaches the shore of the sea, the prince, grown desperate<br />
through grief, resolves on death. But at the moment when he was about to<br />
cast himself into the sea, he hears a voice from heaven, which promises<br />
to him the recovery of his mistress, and indicates the means. After<br />
some time, Kandarpaketu finds a marble statue, the precise resemblance<br />
of Vasavadatta. It proves to be she; and she quits her marble form and<br />
regains animation. She recounts the circumstances under which she was<br />
transformed into stone.<br />
Having thus fortunately recovered his beloved princess, the prince<br />
proceeds to his city, where they pass many years in uninterrupted<br />
happiness.<br />
* * * * *<br />
OPINIONS OF EMINENT EDUCATIONISTS on "<strong>THE</strong> BOY'S RAMAYANA"<br />
ADOPTED BY <strong>THE</strong> <strong>HINDU</strong> SCHOOL CALCUTTA, <strong>THE</strong> KRISHNAGHUR COLLEGIATE<br />
SCHOOL, BETHUNE COLLEGIATE SCHOOL, DUPLEX COLLEGIATE SCHOOL &c.,<br />
_Rev. George Bruce M. A. Senior Professor of English Literature, the<br />
Scottish churches College, Calcutta and Examiner to the University of<br />
Calcutta for the M.A. Examinations in English writes;--_<br />
I have looked over Babu Ramanath Dutt's Ramayana. The English is<br />
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simple and idiomatic. The story is given in an interesting manner.<br />
The style & language are, I think, well-suited for Matriculation<br />
students.<br />
<strong>THE</strong> SCOTTISH CHURCHES COLLEGE.}<br />
4 Cornwallis Square, Calcutta.} GEORGE BRUCE M. A.<br />
_10 Sept.--1910_ }<br />
* * * * *<br />
_Mr. Jnan Ranjan Banerjee M. A., B. L. Vice-Principal and Professor of<br />
English Literature, Philosophy and Law, the Metropolitan Institution,<br />
Calcutta; University Lecturer in Philosophy and Examiner to the<br />
University of Calcutta writes:--_<br />
I have looked through the M. S. of _Boy's Ramayan_ by Ramanath<br />
Dutta and am of opinion that it is written in a very aggreable<br />
style. It is exactly suited to the capacity of Matriculation<br />
students. Its chief characteristics are a very simple style and an<br />
interesting manner of relating stories. I feel free to say, that<br />
its study will go a long way towards familiarising boys in our<br />
schools with simple idiomatic English.<br />
CALCUTTA, } J. R. BANERJEE.<br />
} Vice-Principal,<br />
_29th Aug.--1910_} Metropolitan Institution.<br />
* * * * *<br />
_Mr. C. H. Linton. M.A., Professor of English Literature, The Central<br />
College, Calcutta & Examiner to the University of Calcutta for the<br />
Matriculation Examinations in English; Late Professor of English<br />
Literature, Muir Central College, Allahabad writes:--_<br />
I have looked carefully through the pages of the "Boy's Ramayan."<br />
Mr. Dutt has written his book with commendable care making it one<br />
eminently adapted to the needs of Matriculation students. His<br />
language is simple clear & idiomatic and his style of narrative<br />
bright and entertaining. I feel confident that boys would read such<br />
a book over and over again, for the mere pleasure which its perusal<br />
afforded them. Were I in charge of a School, I should have no<br />
hesitation in including so delightful a work among the text books<br />
in English.<br />
CALCUTTA } C. H. LINTON M. A.<br />
} Prof. of English Literature<br />
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_Sept. 5th--1910_ } Central College.<br />
* * * * *<br />
_Rai Bahadur Rasamaya Mitra M. A. Head Master Hindu School, Calcutta,<br />
the premier School of Bengal writes_<br />
"The Boy's Ramayana" by Mr R. N. Dutt and Prof. Headland is a<br />
well-written book. The style is simple and correct. I have every<br />
reason to believe that the book is very well-suited to the capacity<br />
of Matriculation students.<br />
RASAMAYA MITRA.<br />
6. 3. 11. Head master, Hindu School.<br />
* * * * *<br />
OPINIONS OF <strong>THE</strong> PRESS.<br />
_The Amrita Bazar Patrika in its issue of January 2, 1911 writes:--_<br />
"The Boy's Ramayana"--The book is the only one we know of dealing<br />
with the subject of Ramayana in English suitable for school boys.<br />
It is written in simple and idiomatic English. We recommend the<br />
Universities and school committees to adopt it as a text-book.<br />
_The Indian Mirror in its issue of January 17, 1911 reviews the book<br />
thus:--_<br />
A book, called "The Boy's Ramayana", would be a suitable text-book<br />
for Entrance candidates. The language is easy and naturally flowing<br />
and the style idiomatic and interesting.<br />
_The Bengalee in its issue of March 4, 1911 says:--_<br />
The author has given the story of Valmiki's immortal Epic in<br />
elegant and idiomatic English and his mode of narration is highly<br />
interesting. We are confident that the work under notice is<br />
pre-eminently suited to the capacity of Matriculation students of<br />
Indian Universities.<br />
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